From the Sea it Came
by Morphea
Summary: Set several years after RotK. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas try to prevent a killing and mind-controlling creature from wreaking havoc on M-E. No one being able to trust anyone any more, this quest will endanger their friendships. COMPLETE
1. Introduction & Prologue

**From the Sea it Came...**

  
  
**Author's notes:**  
  
I would like to state first that I don't feel like being a total specialist of Tolkien's writings. I only read the three "Lord of the Rings" books, but I'm doing my best to remain as close to canon as possible while writing this story. So when I'm not sure about something and want to check, I go to the wonderful Encyclopedia of Arda ()  
I consider it as a reference for everything about Middle-earth and Arda, and - *important information* - the first half of the introduction to this story is quoted from there with only minor editing.  
However, if you ever find anything in this story that you feel is not at its place there, please feel free to tell me about it. I love criticism as long as it's constructive.  
In addition, this story needs quite some settlement before the real action begins, so please don't take fright at the sight of an introduction *and* a prologue (I know having both can seem weird, especially since I could have put them both under the same label. But there are two definitely separate parts, so I decided to use both.). Just be a bit patient. Everything will come in time.  
Also, don't be afraid about the "other characters" having a too important role. Trust me, you won't be worried about most of them very long, but plotwise I need them for a little while.  
As for romance, there won't be much of it in this story, only mentions in the first chapters. The only pairings implied will be Aragorn/Arwen and OC/OC, so don't expect anything else throughout this story, this is mainly an adventure and angst one. However, the theme of friendship and trust will be largely evoked.  
  
Well, I think I'm done with my author's notes for now, and… Oh. Yeah. Disclaimer. Sure.  
**Disclaimer:** All the characters, creatures, realms and lands in this story absolutely don't belong to me but to almighty Tolkien. Except maybe a couple of characters, but I'm almost willing to give them away.  
  
Oh, one last thing before I forget: experience showed me that I absolutely suck at finding names for my original characters. So for this story I used an on-line name generator, that can be found right here: .  
  
  
  


**Introduction**  
  


Númenor, the island kingdom of the Dúnedain, was located in the Great Sea, between Middle-earth and Aman. It was raised from the sea by the Valar as a gift and reward to the Men who had remained faithful through the dark years of the First Age. The Edain who had dwelt in Beleriand were led to the island at the beginning of the Second Age by Elros the Half-elven, who unlike his brother Elrond had chosen to be counted among Men rather than Elves.   
  
Elros became the first King of Númenor, and under his rule and the rule of his descendants, the Númenóreans rose to become the most powerful nation of Men in that or any other age.  
  
For the early part of their history, the Númenóreans were closely allied with the Elves of Tol Eressëa, which lay close to their western shores. The Elves visited them often, and taught them much, but the Númenóreans themselves were forbidden to sail westwards, because the Valar feared they would become envious of the Undying Lands they and the Elves inhabited.   
  
As their greatness and power grew, the Númenóreans began to turn against the Ban of the Valar, and at last one of their Kings turned openly against it, though he did not dare defy it.  
  
The last King of Númenor took his armies to Middle-earth to make war upon Sauron, and so great had the Númenóreans become that Sauron's forces deserted him. Seeing an opportunity to destroy his enemy, Sauron sued for peace and returned with the King to Númenor. He gradually gained the latter's trust, and persuaded him to sail openly against the Valar. This he did, but as he set foot on the forbidden shores of Aman, the Land of Gift was taken away and swallowed beneath the waves forever.   
  
Some few survived the Downfall; Elendil, his sons and his followers had prepared themselves for the disaster and taken ship, and were driven back across the seas to Middle-earth. There they founded the famous realms of Arnor and Gondor, though these were but a dim reflection of the glory of Númenor at its height.   
  
  
  
Some others managed to escape from Númenor before it disappeared, and found haven in a series of tiny islands of the Great Sea that hardly appeared on any map of Middle-earth's sailors. There, the former Númenoreans founded a nation they called Norea.  
  
Scattered over those many islands, they had no King to unify them, and quickly got organized in clans, each one settled on one different island. No one knew exactly how many communities were founded, not even the Noreans themselves.  
  
They greatly feared the wrath of the Valar for they had witnessed what had happened to the island of Númenor. Thus never did they try to reach the Undying Lands, dreading the Valar might ban them from their new refuge should they do so.  
  
Isolated from the rest of the world on their small islands, they quickly became remarkable sailors, and lived mostly of fishing. While sailing all over the Great Sea, they were reluctant to approach the shores of Middle-earth, and hardly did they ever dock there. They rapidly made this a habit and broke any contact with any race of Middle-earth, which granted them the name of "lonely people" in addition to the name of "sea travelers". Not having any enemies to fight, Noreans slowly lost throughout the Third Age any knowledge about the art of war, hence becoming renowned pacifists.  
  
Nonetheless, every couple of centuries, a few of them, usually the most curious and adventurous, came to Middle-earth to keep track of what transpired there and of the evolution of languages. But few were those who could claim having met a Norean, even amongst the immortal race of Elves.  
  
Noreans lived mostly outdoors, and very often did they leave their clans for long journeys over the seas. And those people who were always dispersed all over the Great Sea somehow developed the ability to mentally feel the presence of the ones of their kind and know where they were.  
  
They certainly could not outdo the mind powers of the Lady of the Golden Forest, or of any of the elves gifted with such powers, but it allowed them to keep the contact with their beloved during their long journeys and to always find the way back home. Therefore, the lonely people never were truly alone.  
  
Noreans peacefully lived through the Third Age, almost not knowing what evil ailed their cousins of Gondor and barely hearing about the terrible war that took place in Middle-earth, even thinking the Valar had forgotten about them and had left them live there in peace…   
  
Unaware the Valar had certainly not forgotten about them… Unaware the Valar had been displeased that despite the fate of Númenor those Men had dared find haven so close to Aman… Unaware the Valar had cursed them with an evil of their own to punish them, an evil they would soon have to face… An evil that would quickly be out of their control and reach Middle-earth…  
  
  
  
**

Prologue

**  
  
Small waves broke against the shores of a Norean island, reflecting the dim light of the stars high above the Great Sea. The night was calm and the sky was clear while everyone on the island was sound asleep, everyone but two people. Soft giggles echoed as a young couple entered silently one of the wooden huts of the village, their hands tightly clasped. Once inside, the man wrapped an arm around his lover's waist and tenderly rested a hand on her cheek. Their gazes were intently boring into each other's eyes, sparkles shining there.  
  
"Do we really need to hide like that?" the young woman murmured, a sudden mischievous smile appearing on her lips. "Would you fear my father?"  
  
"To be honest, I fear more your brothers," he teased, and he ran his hand through her hair as he added: "But naught of this matters. You know I would go to the end of the world for you."  
  
"As would I," she smiled. "As would I…"  
  
As they were about to kiss, a strange thud rang out outside. The young man slightly released his grip on the woman to look through the window. "What was that?" he wondered aloud.  
  
After a few seconds spent in bewilderment, the woman made him look back at her. "I am sure it is naught," she said confidently. "Naught that will not be still there tomorrow morning and can not wait until then."  
  
He looked at her and smiled. "You are probably right. It…"  
  
They were interrupted by yet another thud, this one longer than the first one. The man looked through the window again, shaking his head. "This is no natural sound. I should go and check." Seeing the frown on his lover's forehead he added: "Do not worry, I will be back soon. Wait for me…" he concluded with a wink and slowly left, carefully closing the door behind him and leaving the young woman alone in the room.  
  
She sat and began to wait for him, but tiredness quickly got the better of her and she slowly fell asleep, drowning into a world of dreams.  
  
Short was her respite, as less than an hour after she woke up with a start, a deep feeling of discomfort overwhelming her. She could feel many ones of her kind fading one by one.  
  
Dying.  
  
It was as if there was something moving, going through the village and leaving a trail of death behind it. And she could feel her lover was close to it.  
  
Alarmed, she ran to the door and hurried outside, but the night was now too dark for her to make out anything. Yet she could still feel many lives being taken away, inexorably.  
  
Jumping when she heard her name, she turned to see her father walking to her. "Thank Eru you are sound," he said with relief.  
  
"W- What is going on?"  
  
He shook his head. "I do not know, but there is a…"  
  
They both froze as they felt two new souls fade. Her brothers. His sons. They exchanged an anxious look, until the older man commanded her: "Stay inside. I will go check on them."  
  
"But…"  
  
"Do as I say," he firmly ordered. "Go back inside. It is too dangerous out there."  
  
She watched him hurrying away, praying the Valar he would find them alive. She turned round to go back inside, but hesitated on the doorstep. She could not just stay there and do naught while she knew her lover was still outside. And he was still near whatever was killing her brethren. She had to find him.  
  
Making up her mind she moved away from the hut towards where she knew her lover to be. After a few minutes spent working her way through the darkness of the night and trying to pay no attention to all the deaths still occurring around, she recognized his silhouette. But he seemed to be lifting someone, holding him or her by the neck.  
  
Under the dim light of the moon this sight seemed surreal, and the young woman walked to him completely confused. Hearing her approach, the man released the body, and it was only when it hit the ground that the woman recognized with horror the lifeless face of her mother.  
  
With a dazed look she turned to her man: "For Eru's sake what is…"  
  
She brusquely stopped, chocked by what she saw in his eyes when he turned to face her. The love that used to fill them every time he laid them on her was gone and replaced by hatred.  
  
It was not him, she thought. It could not be him.  
  
She did not have the time to deepen her thoughts as the man suddenly swooped down on her and closed his hand around her own neck. Then he lifted her, in the same way as he had previously done with her mother. Her feet were not touching the ground anymore, and despite her struggling she could not free herself from his hold as he was way too strong for her.  
  
She called his name, again and again, almost pleading, but with a smirk he kept tightening the claw that his hand formed around her neck. She knew that with one twist of his fingers he could snap it.  
  
One last time she called his name, the sound barely escaping her throat while tears began to roll down her cheeks.  
  
The hatred in his eyes slightly flinched, and for the shortest moment they showed sorrow and concern while the pressure on his victim's neck disappeared. But then there the hatred was again, and as she rubbed her sore throat the young woman took a step back. She took another one when the man stepped towards her, yet she could not bring herself to go further away.  
  
After a short hesitation and a disgusted look on her, the man suddenly turned round and walked resolutely towards the docks.  
  
The young woman was about to try to follow him when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Father…" she murmured at the sight of the older man.  
  
He shook his head. "Let him go. Following him now would not do any good."  
  
Begrudgingly she resigned herself. Her gaze came to rest on her mother's lifeless body on the ground and reality suddenly hit her. For the first time she realized what had happened. With a trembling voice she began: "Is she…" She did not have to finish her sentence, and her father slowly nodded. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she enquired about her brothers as well, yet she already knew the answer.  
  
Dead. They were all dead.  
  
Unable to hold it anymore, she burst into tears and took refuge in the comforting embrace offered by her father, who tenderly wrapped his arms around his last child.  
  
And watching over his daughter's shoulder while forcing back his tears, he observed with a dark look the young man jump aboard an empty Norean boat and weigh anchor. His fists unconsciously clenched.  
  
Both their cries mixed with the ones of all those who had woken up in the middle of the night to find the dead bodies of their friends, parents, children, brothers or sisters, husbands or wives, and it is said that that fateful night the lament that rose from that Norean island could be heard from nearby communities a few miles distant.  
  
--------------------------------  
  
Here endeth the introduction and prologue to this story...  
Please let me know what you think of my personal theory about what could have happened after the Downfall, either in a review or by mail! *wink*  
Or proceed to Chapter one, read it, and *then* write a review! *wink*  
(Note to self: stop winking at strangers. It makes them look back weirdly) 


	2. A Messenger Brings News from the South

**Shameless Announcement: Beta needed!**  
I am at the moment looking for a Beta reader for this very fic. What I will mostly ask from him/her will be spelling, grammar and vocabulary checking. Maybe characterization as well. As for plot holes, being myself a logic freak I doubt it will be needed to check for them, but you never know, so I guess, why not. Having a good knowledge of LOTR's universe is *of course* necessary.  
Please send a curriculum vitae and a cover letter to -  
Hum, I think I got a bit carried away, sorry...  
Anyway, if you are willing to Beta this story, please contact me! (e-mail in profile)  
  
One last note before the chapter begins: while I *do* use a name generator for my original characters, I didn't use one to find a name for Aragorn's and Arwen's first "unnamed daughter". Thus, the name is copyrighted Morphea, 2003. Unless the name has already been used before, which I doubt, but it would be an incredible coincidence.  
  
Anyway, on with the story.  
  


**Chapter 1:  
A messenger brings news from the South**

  
  
It was a quiet day of spring that was beginning in Gondor. The sun was skimming the skyline behind Minas Tirith, bedecking the sky with warm colors. Many years had gone by since the War of the Ring, and the peacefulness around the White City would seem unbelievable for one who had known the dark days.  
  
The palace had quickly regained its erstwhile greatness after the newly wed royal couple, Aragorn son of Arathorn, and Arwen daughter of Elrond of Rivendell, had settled there.  
  
Life had granted them so far a son, Eldarion, now aged five, and a daughter, Enariel, only a few months old. And it was with pride that at the break of that day they were watching the cradle of their sleeping last-born in the nursery, their hands tenderly intertwined.  
  
"She is so beautiful…" Arwen whispered to her husband.  
  
"As beautiful as you are…" Aragorn murmured back, lifting a hand to rest it lovingly on the Queen's cheek. A soft smile appeared on her lips, and they remained there for a few moments, still, just enjoying each other's presence.  
  
"Do you have any news from the Hobbits?" Arwen finally asked, making sure she did not speak too loud and thus did not wake the baby.  
  
"Sam was elected Mayor of the Shire again." was the answer she got from the King of Gondor.  
  
She smiled. "I got wind of that. Who would have guessed all those years ago that Sam would become a Mayor?"  
  
Aragorn nodded with acknowledgement. "He is indeed a good Mayor. And it keeps him really busy, which is great for him as he does not have much time left to think about Frodo."  
  
Both of them remained silent during a few seconds for they knew Sam had truly missed Frodo ever since his Master decided to leave the Shire and to cross the Great Sea with Bilbo and Gandalf.  
  
After a while, the elven Queen broke the silence and declared: "We have not seen any of the Hobbits much lately. It seems that their new responsibilities, Sam as the Mayor of the Shire, Merry as the Master of Buckland, Pippin as the Thain, keep all of them busy. It truly is a pity, for every time they came here they brought happiness and liveliness with them, and I miss the sound of their voices echoing in the dining hall." Her voice showed her sadness.  
  
"I am sure they will find some time soon to come back here, my love." Aragorn assured her.  
  
"What about Gimli and Legolas?" Arwen enquired. "You told me a few days ago that they had decided to visit us, when will they arrive?"  
  
"Soon, most probably today."  
  
"I heard they had…" Arwen broke off as a sudden agitation was heard in the hallway while hurried steps began to converge towards the nursery. In an instinctive movement conditioned by years spent as a ranger, Aragorn held his hand to the hilt of his sword and faced the door with determination, standing protectively in front of his wife and his daughter.  
  
He could hear the voices of the guards posted outside the room rise, and he quickly understood that whatever had been coming towards them, it had been stopped at the door. Slowly, he walked to the door, trying to make out words of the ongoing argument outside, and finally opened it and stepped out. There, he saw two members of his personal guard blocking the way to a young man dressed in Gondor's colors. The dust on his tunic and the exhaustion that could be read on his face indicated a long and recent journey.  
  
"You can not go any further." One of the guards stated menacingly to the young man while the other began to unsheathe his sword.  
  
But none of those threats seemed to discourage the young man as he insisted with vehemence. "I have to talk to our Lord as soon as possible, it is…" His voice suddenly trailed off as he noticed Aragorn behind the two guards. During split seconds he gaped at him in surprise, before he took a knee and looked down, slightly embarrassed. "Your Highness…"  
  
When the guards turned round and saw their King as well, they quickly stood to attention on each side of the hallway. Aragorn made a step towards the young man.  
  
"Stand up, and tell me at once what is going on."  
  
The man complied and stood up, but he barely dared look up to his King as he spoke. "My Lord, I apologize deeply to burst in so irreverently in your palace, but I carry an urgent message for you."  
  
As he finished, Arwen walked out of the nursery, silently closing the door, and stepped next to her husband. Aragorn stared at the young man, trying to size him up. He finally declared: "We should take this conversation to a more suitable place."  
  
Taking his wife's hand in his, he walked between the two guards and down the hallway, to a throne room. It had statues and paintings of the past kings on each side, and as they entered the room the young soldier looked around in awe. Aragorn settled on a decorated throne, Arwen at his side.  
  
"Now, tell me what brings you here."  
  
The man cast an hesitant glance at Arwen.  
  
"Do not fear to talk. Whatever you have to tell me can be heard by the Queen."  
  
The soldier moistened his lips before speaking. "My name is Dwild, and I am stationed at Linhir harbor. Three days ago, a boat entered the bay of Belfalas and anchored in Linhir. A Norean boat." He added.  
  
Aragorn looked at him with surprise. "A Norean boat?"  
  
"Aye, my Lord. There was only one man aboard, which confused us greatly as no man can sail alone." He paused. "He just… crossed the city and went North. But he…" He hesitated.  
  
"Go on." Aragorn demanded impatiently.  
  
"He killed some people on his way, including civilians."  
  
The royal couple exchanged a look. They both knew this could not be, as Noreans were known to be pacifists. "Did you arrest him?" the King asked.  
  
The young soldier looked down with obvious unease. "Unfortunately, he escaped us. He carried no visible weapon, but he was quick, almost as quick as an Elf could be. I do not know how he killed those people, for I did not witness it myself, but I saw the bodies, and it was no pretty sight."  
  
"So you are telling me that you could not stop a single and unarmed man?" Aragorn coldly asked.  
  
The man looked down again. "A group of soldiers went looking for him, but I do not know if it proved fruitful as I left just as the search started. And honestly your Highness, I doubt they will find him themselves."  
  
Aragorn remained silent a few seconds, pondering over those news. An unarmed man, coming from a community they had little contacts with, not to say none, was killing his people and was still free. His instincts told him there was something extremely abnormal with this.  
  
Arwen shared the same doubts as she asked: "Are you sure he was a Norean?"  
  
"I am my Lady, for I have not told you the full story yet. A couple of hours after the first boat, another one arrived. Three people were aboard this one, and claimed to be Noreans. They seemed to know about the other boat, and said it was the reason for their coming. When we interrogated them, they confirmed that the man was a Norean too. They also expressed their desire to converse with the ruler of this land as soon as possible. All they agreed to tell us was that it dealt with their compatriot."  
  
"They are on their way here," Aragorn guessed.  
  
"Aye, with a few guards as an escort. To make sure naught happens to them as well as to make sure they do not make things happen to innocent people, if you see what I mean, my Lord." At his King imperceptible nod, he went on. "I am a fast rider, thus I was sent here to warn you of their coming. But I probably outran them only by a few hours. They will certainly arrive today before dusk."  
  
"Is that the full message you had for me?"  
  
"Aye, my Lord."  
  
Aragorn remained silent a few seconds, lost in contradictory thoughts, and finally spoke those words: "Go see one of the guards posted outside, and ask him to show you a place where to eat and to rest."  
  
The young soldier nodded gratefully. "I thank you, my Lord." Silently he left, leaving Aragorn and Arwen alone in the throne room.  
  
It was the Queen who broke the silence first. "The man that killed those people, he can not be a Norean. Noreans are pacifists."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "I am not sure. What do we know exactly about Noreans? Gondor has not had any contacts with them for centuries; maybe what we think to know about them is wrong. Do not forget that Noreans, pacifists or not, are Men above all. And I may ignore the reason of these killings if there is one, but I know something for sure about Men: pacifism is not in their nature."  
  
Arwen could only agree to that. "That is right, but my knowledge about Noreans might be more extended than yours, for I met one of them before." Seeing her husband's questioning look she added with a smile: "In Rivendell, some two hundred years ago. You were not born yet. Anyway, I had the opportunity to talk with him and learn about his culture, and believe me when I say those people truly have no knowledge about the art of war and are not seeking to learn any."  
  
An anxious frown appeared on the King's forehead. He knew so few about those people he did not know what to expect from them, and despite his will to believe Arwen, he still had doubts. He wished Gandalf was around, for his knowledge about Arda was great and even beyond the one of elves in many domains.  
  
The Queen saw his puzzlement. "This should not be treated lightly, Aragorn. Seldom do those people venture farther than the shores when they reach Middle-earth, thus if those three Noreans felt they had to do so, it means it is very important matter they wish to discuss with you."  
  
Aragorn let go another sigh. "Hopefully those Noreans will bring some light to this mystery."  
  


*****

  
  
Aragorn remained there for the rest of the day, lost in his thoughts. He only nibbled to the food a maid brought him, for he was deeply worried by the news he had received.  
  
During his various journeys through Middle-earth as a ranger, he had met many people belonging to many races, and he considered himself able to tell which were friends of Gondor.  
  
But those Noreans were a complete mystery to him. Knowing that one of them had killed some of his people for no apparent reason should be enough to put them into the enemies category. It should have been. But it was not, for almost the only thing known about Noreans was the fact that their knowledge about the art of war could be considered nonexistent, and one of them going on a sudden killing spree in Gondor could only mean something went horribly, terribly wrong.  
  
His musings were interrupted as he heard two familiar voices.  
  
"What do you think, master Dwarf? Should we indicate our presence?"  
  
"I do not know, master Elf, for he seems too busy staring at the floor."  
  
The King looked up and saw Gimli and Legolas only a few steps from him, amusement on their faces. Aragorn smiled too, slightly embarrassed at not hearing them coming, and stood up to greet his friends. "I am glad to see you both here."  
  
"Pleasure shared, Aragorn." Gimli said, while Legolas frowned looking at their host.  
  
"Is everything well, Aragorn? You seem anxious."  
  
"I am, my friend. I would have preferred to welcome you both in more festive conditions, but a few hours ago I received confusing news." He paused. He trusted his friends enough to tell them what had transpired, and felt he had to, especially if as he feared the news that were to be brought by the Noreans were bad enough to concern both their races as well. "Two Norean boats docked at Linhir's harbor, in the south of Gondor." He finally said.  
  
"Norean boats?" Legolas exclaimed, a sudden gleam in his eyes that only Gimli noticed.  
  
The dwarf's voice rose. "I understand that this can be surprising as Noreans are not often seen in Middle-earth, but what are the confusing news you spoke of, Aragorn?"  
  
"You probably heard as I did that Noreans were pacifist people. Yet one of them went through the city and killed civilians, managing to escape the guards posted there."  
  
A weird silence settled while the two former members of the Fellowship pondered over that.  
  
"Are you sure he was a Norean?" Legolas finally asked.  
  
"To be honest, I can not know for sure yet Legolas, but I have good reasons to think so. Anyway, we should get to the bottom of it soon as the three Noreans that were onboard the second boat asked to talk to me."  
  
Another short silence settled.  
  
"So, those Noreans are coming here?" Again, only Gimli noticed the concealed excitement in the elf's voice.  
  
He knew well what was going on his friend's mind. He had witnessed his sea longing many times, for he had accompanied him on many journeys since the end of the War of the Ring. And Gimli could guess that the prospect of meeting Noreans, the sea travelers, those who knew the sea as well as the elf knew trees; the prospect of talking to those people who dwelt so close to Aman; that all this would probably rouse Legolas's sea longing.  
  
"Aye, they are."  
  
Just as Aragorn finished his sentence, a guard rushed in the room. Out of breath, he announced: "My Lord, the Noreans have arrived."  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter One...  
  
Please let me know what you think of this story so far!  
I am spending an awful lot of time writing it, and I'd love to hear a bit about what you guys think before posting the next chapter, which should be called "An Evil Revealed" (ah, I'm so good at finding lame chapter titles, aren't I?)  
Anyway, I'm sure you've already noticed the pretty little button down there. Yes, this one... Now go and click on it! 


	3. An Evil Revealed

  
**A/N:** First of all, I'd like to say this: wow. Thank you to all the great reviewers that wrote a word or two, it was really great to see you appreciated this story. I would also like to answer RainyDayz: there *will* be a lot of Aragorn and Legolas (actually, the chapter after this one will be almost all about Aragorn), but I am sorry to tell you there *will* also be some Gimli. But I hope you will still enjoy reading this story. (after all, when there is some Gimli, there has to be some Legolas, right? ;-) And to tapetum lucidum: there will be Legolas angst (quite a lot, actually...)(but hey, who doesn't like to torture him, anyway?), but you'll have to be patient and wait a few more chapters...  
  
Oh, one last thing: still looking for a beta!  
  
Now, on with the story!  


**Chapter 2:  
An evil revealed**

  
  
They were all there in the throne room when the guards made the Noreans enter. Aragorn, Arwen, and Legolas and Gimli as well. Aragorn had insisted on their being both present.  
  
First came a middle-aged man, and one respectful step behind him stood an older man and a young woman. All three of them wore extreme exhaustion on their faces, dark shadows under their eyes, and their backs were bowed by tiredness. Their skin was the tanned one of those used to living outdoors.  
  
The middle-aged man and the young woman shared the same dark green eyes, and they might both be dark-haired but their hair were lightened by a probable life-long exposure to the sea air.  
  
The older man wore a long gray beard, and his insightful brown eyes showed a calm wisdom. When his gaze rested on Arwen, surprise flashed in his eyes, but once this moment passed he nodded to her with a slight smile. For her part, Arwen looked at him with puzzlement for split seconds, and when she finally understood she warmly smiled back at him before whispering something at Aragorn's ear.  
  
The man ahead of the two other Noreans cleared his throat. "King Elessar. I am Crireth, chief of the Norean clan of Elat. Here", he indicated the old man, "is Qeladon, my advisor, and here", he indicated the young woman, " is my daughter Cindra."  
  
In his turn, Aragorn introduced his wife and friends. "Lady Arwen Evenstar, my wife and daughter of Lord Elrond Half-elven of Rivendell; Gimli son of Glóin, Dwarf of the Lonely Mountain; Prince Legolas, son of Thranduil the King of Mirkwood." Before Crireth could say anything, Aragorn added: "Before you speak, Crireth, I would like you to know that I got wind of the doings of one of your people in Linhir, and be assured that I expect full explanations from you."  
  
"That is the very reason of my coming here, my Lord. It was indeed a man belonging to my clan that arrived in your kingdom before us, and I wish to apologize in his place for what he did. But had he been in his right mind, never would he have perpetrated such acts."  
  
"Are you implying that this man suffered from madness?"  
  
"Nay my Lord. Ederis, that is the name of that man, proved all his life he was perfectly sane. His late doings were not of his own will but of the one of a creature of darkness that took him as an host." Many questioning looks converged towards him as Crireth finished his sentence, and he added: "I should let Qeladon give you all more details about this creature as he knows more than I do."  
  
The room fell more silent than it already was as the old man took a step forward. It was as if they were all waiting for words that would enlighten Crireth's cryptic sayings. Qeladon cleared his throat before speaking slowly as he carefully chose his words. "A creature, probably of ancient evil, emerged in Norea a week or so ago. We believe it is some kind of mind-controlling creature, taking possession of both mind and body of a human host, as it was the case with Ederis. We ignore how this creature proceeds, and do not know if it even has a body of its own, as we never saw its corporeal form if it has one. All we can tell for sure is that it took possession of Ederis, killed many Noreans, before leaving for Middle-earth with its host."  
  
The old Norean marked a pause, both to moisten his lips and to give some time to everyone to assimilate this dense data. The men in front of him exchanged worried looks, unspoken concerned words on their lips. The look in the King of Gondor's eyes darkened as he was now beginning to size what transpired in Linhir: a new evil had come to Middle-earth, unleashed…  
  
After a couple of seconds heavy with silent uneasiness, Qeladon went on. "This is not the first time something like this happens; I am aware of old writings that talk of similar events occurring many years ago in Norea, twice. Each time, the creature took control of a Norean, killed hundreds of people around, and suddenly left. But as far as I know, this is the first time it leaves Norea and goes to Middle-earth."  
  
Aragorn could not hold any more the question that kept running through his head since the mind-controlling ability had been mentioned. "This creature… Can it take possession of anyone?"  
  
"I guess so, my Lord." The Norean answered.  
  
Aragorn looked at his wife at his side as she laid a hand on his shoulder, then at his former companions. They all seemed as concerned as he was. He looked back at the old Norean. "Even Elves?" he finally enquired.  
  
Qeladon hesitated a short while. "I am afraid I can not answer that question. I know Elves to have strong spirits, hence maybe this creature's tricks would have no effect on them, but I can not tell for sure."  
  
The next question came from Arwen. "Can it switch to another host even after taking possession of one?"  
  
"It can most probably pass from one body to another, yet I would not know how."  
  
Crireth took a step forward and looked at Aragorn straight in the eyes. "My Lord, I assume you now understand why I so pressingly wished to talk to you. As you may know, we Noreans are not versed in the art of war. We do not know how to kill this creature, or even if it can be killed. I consider it is the responsibility of Norea to do the necessary concerning this creature, but we are unfortunately not equipped to fight this evil alone."  
  
Aragorn could read Crireth's unspoken request in his eyes. They wanted to find this creature and kill it, but they did not know how to do it, and even if they did they probably would not have the means to do so. They needed his help and the help of the people of Gondor, as well as the help of anyone willing to fight this evil.  
  
And hearing the little that was known about the creature, Aragorn feared it might quickly become the concern of all Middle-earth. A mind-controlling creature like this one seemed to be could reveal extremely dangerous should it manage to host a powerful Middle-earth figure like himself or any other ruler, pretending and being able to rule over armies…  
  
He eventually spoke those words. "I will do everything in my power to track this creature and rid Middle-earth of it. But as your advisor pointed out, as far as we know it may well be able to go from one body to another, and maybe it has already switched to another host. You do realize that tracking a creature that is not bound to one body will be extremely tricky."  
  
"It has not switched to another body," Crireth answered, "at least not yet. You see, we Noreans have the ability to know where the ones of our kind are; we have spent most of our time practically alone on the sea for many generations, which probably developed this skill in the course of time. Anyway, we can feel their presence. And I can tell you that at this very moment, Ederis is still heading north. Had the creature chosen another host, he would be either dead or heading back south."  
  
"So basically you are able to tell me here and now where exactly is your fellow countryman?"  
  
"I am afraid I do not know the names of the places of this land, but give me a map and I will be able to show you. Now, or anytime during the chase."  
  
"Which means that should we organize an expedition to track this creature, you would like to be a part of it?" Aragorn asked, voicing the underlying words in Crireth's sayings.  
  
"My Lord, I have no doubt that the renowned ranger I heard you were would have no problem to follow the track of a man like Ederis, but we might be quicker to localize him, and time is an important factor in the situation we are in. Furthermore we may not be warriors, but all three of us are good healers, the best of the clan of Elat. Our presence could be useful should there be… complications. And as I told you, I consider this creature to be the responsibility of Norea."  
  
The King of Gondor gave a quick look towards his friends again. Gimli's face clearly expressed his skepticism, while Legolas seemed to have mixed feelings. Aragorn sometimes truly wished Gandalf was around, and this was one of those moments; and he suddenly found the presence of Arwen's hand on his shoulder very comforting.  
  
He looked back at Crireth. "I would like to have a talk with you, alone." He turned to Legolas and Gimli: "My friends, if you do not mind leaving us alone…" For his part, Crireth spoke a few words to his companions in a low voice.  
  
As they all complied and began to silently head for the door, Arwen led everyone out of the room and to the gardens of the palace. Arwen and Qeladon walked side by side down the stairs that lead to the gardens, followed at a distance by Cindra, while Legolas and Gimli dawdled on the terrace. Both wore concerned looks. They saw Arwen and Qeladon settle on a bench, and Cindra was already nowhere to be seen. They silently leant their elbows on the balustrade, allowing themselves to enjoy the sight of the gardens lower down.  
  
Eventually, Gimli let out a sigh. "I do not trust them."  
  
"Gimli…" his friend began.  
  
"I have the feeling they are hiding something from us."  
  
"Gimli there is…"  
  
The Dwarf did not let him finish, his tone rising slightly. "Would you send your best healers away when you have just suffered from a battle? Would you not make sure they are around to take care of the wounded? This is nonsense. Either those people lack the least common sense or they are not telling us everything."  
  
Gimli had just finished his sentence when he jumped in surprise as he saw Cindra – who had obviously been standing right below them, her back against the wall of the terrace – move away towards the gardens, casting a dark glance at the Dwarf.  
  
Once she was far enough, Gimli turned towards the Elf. "You knew she was there." It was more a statement than a question.  
  
"I tried to warn you."   
  
The Dwarf hesitated. "Do you think she heard me?"  
  
About to answer, Legolas looked back down on the gardens as Cindra seemed to have changed her mind and was angrily walking back towards them until she faced the Dwarf.  
  
With an upset but yet low voice, she said: "This creature kills. It does not wound, it does not injure, it does not take prisoners. It just kills. Healers would not be of any use." An ironic smile played on her lips. "But you are right. We probably lack the least common sense to be stupid enough to come all the way here to warn you about the coming of this creature."  
  
Once her speech finished, she turned round and walked away again, casting a final dark glance at Gimli.  
  
"My guess is that she heard you…" Legolas teased.  
  
Gimli crossed his arms on his chest with a scowling look. "Well I still do not trust them."  
  
This might well be true, yet Legolas knew his friend was embarrassed by what happened, as the sudden grumpy silence he had just fallen in showed. He had not meant to hurt the young Norean.  
  
The Elf's gaze wandered over the gardens, a soft smile appearing on his lips at this appeasing sight. Further down in the gardens he saw Arwen and Qeladon, the old Norean, sitting on a bench and obviously in the middle of a conversation.  
  
And they were indeed in the middle of a conversation, as Arwen had recognized in Qeladon the Norean she had met many years ago in Rivendell.  
  
"The race of Elves is indeed a creation of marvel of the Valar. After all those years, you have not changed a single bit, while I became an old man you hardly recognized…"  
  
"I apologize, Qeladon. I was not expecting to see you here."  
  
"No worries. How could you recognize the young man I once was in this aging and wrinkled body, anyway?"  
  
Arwen smiled softly. "How have you fared since I last saw you in Rivendell?"  
  
"Well I came back to Norea, founded a family, grew older… Told about what I lived here in Middle-earth during the two years of my stay… It is now known under the name of "The tales of Qeladon's incredible journey"…"  
  
They both laughed lightly, until Qeladon went on. "You know, my travels were considered as an incredible folly and I as an arrogant young adventurer when I first left Norea." He shortly paused before adding: "What about you, Lady Arwen? How have you fared? I… see you got married."  
  
He smiled, and Arwen smiled back. "Aye, I did." She simply answered.  
  
"I also heard about the war that recently ailed this part of Middle-earth…"  
  
Arwen's eyes darkened. "A terrible war it was. The forces of many races of Middle-earth had to unite to defeat the Dark Lord."  
  
"I have to admit that even almost two hundred years ago, there was already some kind of spreading darkness that was foreshadowing the upcoming battle…" He paused as Cindra was walking by at some distance, wandering idly through the gardens.  
  
The old Norean looked at her thoughtfully, and eventually sighed. "I am afraid I might be the only Norean to have heard about this war…" he told Arwen. "Unfortunately it seems that the younger generations do not know much even about the history of our own people… Look at Cindra for example. I was younger than she is now when I left for Rivendell, yet I knew more about Middle-earth or the history of our people before my journey than she or any of the young Noreans do."  
  
Arwen sadly shook her head. "That is a pity. The fate of Númenor should never be forgotten."  
  
"I try to keep the memory of Númenor alive through the teaching to young children, but it does not seem to be sufficient." He shrugged. "At least I managed to successfully teach Westron to some of them…" His gaze rested on Cindra again for a few seconds as he said this, before resting on the palace. He added with a sigh: "I hope your husband will agree to help us on this quest, for we are in great need of his support."  
  
"Do not worry. He will."  
  
"May you be right, Lady Arwen… For alone we would not be able to fight this evil…"  
  


*****

  
  
As soon as everyone had left the room, Aragorn indicated a seat near his own to his guest. "Please Crireth, do have a seat."  
  
"Thank you my Lord."  
  
The King waited until the Norean was comfortably sat before he asked: "Crireth, there is something I have been wondering. You talked of the important killings of this creature. Pardon me if this question is too direct, but how many losses have you endured in your clan?"  
  
The clan chief's eyes darkened. "Almost two hundred souls faded the night that creature appeared. Which is half the population of my clan," he added with an obvious grief, "all killed within a few hours…" He shook his head. "No mortal can inflict such damage in so short a time alone…"  
  
"And do you not have a single idea of the reason why this creature would come and kill your people, especially since it is not the first time it attacks Norea? I believe creatures of ancient evil usually do so either to defend their territory, to feed or to obey their master."  
  
The Norean shook his head again. "We do not know the motivations of this creature, but it seems that its only goal was killing, though. Alas, I fear that its coming to Middle-earth might indicate a change in its purpose."  
  
"It seems to me it has not really given up its killing habit," Aragorn answered rather bitterly, still having in mind the deaths of several of his own people.  
  
"I apologize, King Elessar. I know some of your people died at the hands of this creature as well. But if its main purpose was still to kill, I am convinced that many more would have perished."  
  
"Then do tell me what you think it wishes now." Despite his question, Aragorn already had quite a precise idea of what this creature was seeking in Middle-earth.  
  
"What we Noreans have not to offer. Power."  
  
Aragorn slowly nodded for it confirmed what he feared. In terms of authority, Noreans were weak and very few, and above all they were not united. Their nation could not bring anything to a power thirsty creature, while Middle-earth was abundant in realms with great influence and large militias… And as he had previously mused, a mind-controlling creature having under its control the mind of any ruler of those realms could bring great misfortune to those lands…  
  
"Do you know of any way to kill this creature?" he finally asked.  
  
"As I told you before, I do not. Nonetheless, Qeladon thinks that killing the host may be enough to kill the creature along with him."  
  
Aragorn frowned. "Would you be willing to sacrifice yet another one of your men?"  
  
"I will not hide from you the fact that I do not really favor this solution. Ederis is a good man and did not deserve such a fate, hence I will do my possible to avoid this. But sometimes sacrifices must be done for the good of the majority, and if ultimately it is the only option we have to get rid of this creature, then yes, I would." The Norean paused a few seconds before adding: "But we may have another way to kill it."  
  
Aragorn looked at him with a questioning look. For someone who did not know who to kill this creature, he seemed to have quite a few means to do so…  
  
"You see, Ederis and Cindra were childhood friends, and still now are very close friends. And he did not kill her, yet he had a strong opportunity to do so, and even almost did. But he interrupted himself, which means that despite the creature perverting his mind, Ederis was still there and somewhat able to intervene and prevent the creature from killing her. There might be hope there. Maybe we can find a way to reach to him."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "Which explains the presence of your daughter here…"  
  
"If you have children my Lord, I am sure you will understand I would have preferred to know her in a safe place far away from this creature. But we may need her, and anyway she would not have allowed me to search for her best friend without bringing her with me. Also as her bond with Ederis is stronger than ours, she might be more accurate in localizing him than Qeladon and I are."  
  
Everything now made sense to the King of Gondor. He had understood the presence of Crireth's counselor, especially since he had already come to Middle-earth before, but he had wondered about the clan chief's daughter.  
  
"So what say you, King Elessar? Can we count on your assistance?"  
  
"Aye, you certainly can."  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Two...  
  
I hope this chapter didn't sound too didactic, but I needed to do it before having the real action begin...  
Anyway, please let me know your opinion in a review!  
I am a rather slow writer, but if you are a writer yourself you probably know how a few good reviews can speed up things... ;-)  
Next chapter: "Leaving the White City" (at last... :-p)  



	4. Leaving the White City

  
**A/N:** Well, thanks a million to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter! It really means a lot to me, and I found some comments quite flattering (I shouldn't read them too often, could be bad for my ego...). I'd like to answer some reviewers though (don't worry, it won't be long)(I hope).  
To IMJinnie, about my attention to details: well, I *did* say I was a logic freak, didn't I? I think I could almost be considered a perfectionist, as I keep reading my chapters again and again until I'm (almost) happy with it, which I'm never since there'll always be something that bugs me. Did I hear you ask for an example? I think I did. Well for example, the scene where Legolas and Gimli go to the gardens in the last chapter, I wrote they "leant their elbows on the balustrade" but I always thought they couldn't (I still do). The architecture of Minas Tirith is most probably the size of Men, and while it would be no problem for Legolas, I doubt Gimli's elbows would reach the balustrade. And after a (very) long pondering during which I considered how to phrase it, I thought "Who other than I would notice, anyway?" So it remained that way, and it seems I was right... No one noticed...  
And while this attention to detail makes me a slow writer, on the other hand I think it would make me a good beta... Or a very annoying beta to the least... (I am convinced I am one of my co-writers worst nightmare)  
To xsilicax, about me needing no beta: Well, in a way I do beta my own writings (see above babbling), but I'd like to thank you for saying that. English is not my first language, so I can never be totally sure about what I write (I have a very active social life with my dictionary, though...), and that's why I keep asking for a beta.  
To RainyDayz: Hmm... Doesn't saying that you enjoyed the scene with "Legolas and Gimli (minus Gimli)" mean that you "enjoyed the scene with Legolas"? Anyway... There'll be plenty of Legolas in the next chapter if you wish to know (Gimli will still be around, though... Sorry, but I really do like that dwarf... ;-p )  
To eck: Glad I managed to keep your attention! ;-D  
  
Oh, ok, ok, I'm done now... So on with the story!  
  


**Chapter 3:  
Leaving the White City**

  
  
High in a tower of his palace, Aragorn was standing on a balcony that allowed him to see all the surrounding lands. The sun was now setting down, and it was with a sigh that the King of Gondor looked at the skyline while the darkness of the night began to spread over his kingdom.  
  
How many years had passed since his last journeys through Middle-earth he could not tell. Too many of them he would say, if he was not the ruler of a Man realm with a wife and children. Both his future and duty laid there now, in Minas Tirith.  
  
It had been settled with Crireth that an expedition would leave the White City the next morning at first light, to allow the three Noreans some rest until then. And despite his will to accompany them, he was reluctant to do so. He could not leave his family behind. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes.  
  
He opened them again when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.  
  
"What is it that disturb you, my husband?"  
  
The soft voice of his elven wife never failed to comfort him, and he put his own hand on hers with a slight smile. Without taking his eyes off the landscape he answered: "Nothing, Undómiel. It is nothing…"  
  
"Someone else than I may believe that, but I can read in you, Estel. I have known for a long time now that a day like this one would come."  
  
Aragorn turned to Arwen with an expression of puzzlement on his face.  
  
"I ignored that it would come in the guise of this creature, but I expected it and prepared myself to it." She paused a few seconds to study her husband's face. She could so easily read in his eyes what she was about to tell… "You have been missing your travels for many years now. Strider the Ranger is yearning in you, and you are aching to join the expedition that will leave tomorrow."  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "It is not my role to go with them any more. Besides I am sure my men will be able to handle it alone."  
  
"I am afraid I do not share your confidence, and I am almost certain you are not that confident yourself."  
  
The King of Gondor turned to face the landscape again. She was right. He knew his men to be experienced, but dealing with this creature would be extremely delicate, and important decisions would have to be made. It was no ordinary tracking. Knowing his wife could read him like an open book, he simply answered: "I can not leave."  
  
"The hunt of this creature requires your presence as much as any of Gondor's important matters."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "But what about you, Eldarion and Enariel?"  
  
"Do not worry about us. And while I do not like the idea of you risking your life, I know it has to be done, and I am sure you will come back soon safe and sound…"  
  
Turning to face her once more, he nodded and smiled to her while taking her in his embrace. "_Diola lle, nîn meleth_ (*)," he murmured.  
  
Arwen slightly turned her head towards the door as two familiar figures entered the room. "I think there are two people here who would like to talk to you…" Slowly she freed herself from Aragorn's hug and left with the grace only an Elf could have, slightly nodding at Gimli's and Legolas' bows.  
  
The two friends walked to Aragorn side by side, and it was Gimli who spoke first. "I am beginning to think there is something wrong with you, Aragorn. It is the second time today you do not hear us coming. That is quite unusual for an experienced Ranger like yourself."  
  
"Especially since even a young child would have been able to hear that Dwarf coming…" Legolas added.  
  
"Are you implying I am noisy, Elf?" the Dwarf retorted, his hands on his hips.  
  
"Deafening would be a more suitable word to describe the indecent amount of noise you produce."  
  
"My friends, my friends…" Aragorn stopped them with a hand. He knew that once started, that kind of feigned argument could go on for hours with them. "I apologize as I have not spent with you all the time I would have wanted to tonight. I had been waiting for your visit impatiently, but I am afraid our reunion will have to be shortened. I will leave tomorrow with a group of men and the Noreans to find this creature."  
  
"Are you trying to keep us away from this adventure?" Legolas asked with a false indignant tone.  
  
"None of you need a new quest to prove his valor. I do not wish to impose that one on you, and you probably both have your own concerns to deal with."  
  
"If you think the concerns of the King of Gondor are not our own, you afflict me for you are greatly mistaken." Gimli answered with a slightly upset tone. "I do not trust those sea travelers, and I would like to keep an eye on them."  
  
At the hearing of the Dwarf's mistrust Legolas slightly rolled his eyes, and at this Aragorn inwardly smiled as he knew it was a very unusual attitude for an Elf. "And if you do not mind Aragorn, I would like to come as well and keep an eye on that Dwarf before he puts himself into too much trouble."  
  
Aragorn nodded. With the mind-controlling creature he had on his hands, what he needed the most was trustworthy allies, and those two were certainly the most trustworthy ones he could ever dream of.  
  
Gimli's answer to his Elf friend's insinuations was quick to come, and it was outraged that he said: "I need no elven eyes to be kept on me. You can attend to your elven affairs, Legolas, and do whatever an Elf is ought to do, while the real warriors go into battle."  
  
"Pardon me but without my arrows, I would not have given much for the chances of the mighty warrior you are…"  
  
The Dwarf told Aragorn off: "You know, travelling with that Elf", he said pointing at Legolas, "is extremely boring. Whenever you encounter foes he would shoot at them at a distance, even before you can have a chance to kill some of them yourself. It is greatly annoying, and honestly I could live with some more excitement than watching enemies fall one by one without doing anything myself." He quickly added before Legolas could say anything: "Hence Aragorn, if you do not mind sharing some fun with old friends, it would be a pleasure to accompany you and your men on this journey."  
  
This time Aragorn smiled openly. "I do not think there will be much fun during this journey, Gimli, but your presence will be greatly appreciated." Seeing that the Dwarf was turning to Legolas with a somewhat winning smile, he turned to the Elf too and added: "Yours as well, Legolas."  
  


*****

  
  
Aragorn sat near his son's bed as silently as he could, and watched as Eldarion was peacefully sleeping. He had inherited his mother's fine nose and piercing eyes, but his general features were his father's. A tender smile appeared on the King's face, and he cast a quick look towards the window. Soon would the sun rise behind the skyline, and he knew he had barely an hour left before he and the group of men would leave.  
  
His gaze wandered back to his heir. With a careful hand he pushed away a strand of dark hair on his son's forehead. The young boy slightly stirred in his sleep, but quickly came to rest again.  
  
Aragorn slowly got up, his eyes never leaving his son. He had better go and prepare his package, hence he turned and began to walk to the door.  
  
"Father?" an half-asleep and questioning voice called.  
  
Aragorn froze. "Aye?" he answered, quietly turning back again to find his son helping himself up with his elbows.  
  
"Is it time for my training yet?"  
  
He sat back near the bed. "Nay, Eldarion. It is still very early, and you should go back to sleep."  
  
"But you will train me? You said you would show me how to use a sword today."  
  
Aragorn smiled at the excitement in the boy's voice. Many a time had he seen Eldarion hiding and trying to imitate him with a piece of wood during his own sparring with one of his men. "I said that maybe I would. You are still too young to carry a sword."  
  
"I am not." Eldarion stated with a pout. "I am strong you know."  
  
The King of Gondor smiled even more. "I know. But the time will come when I will teach you swordfight, and in the meantime you will have to be patient."  
  
"So… You will not show me today?" The deception was obvious in his voice.  
  
Aragorn sighed and his smile disappeared. "I have to leave soon, Eldarion."  
  
The boy frowned . "Why? Is it because of those people that arrived yesterday?"  
  
So even he had heard about them… "Aye."  
  
"I do not like them." For a moment, Aragorn wondered if his son had somehow been in contact with Gimli during the night, until Eldarion added with a scowling look: "Because you have to leave because of them."  
  
Aragorn slightly shook his head. "Nay, Eldarion. Do not blame the messenger for the bad news he carries." Realizing his son might be a bit too young to understand what he meant, he went on: "It is not because of them I have to leave, but because of what they informed me of. There is someone very evil that is killing people and I have to go and stop him. Do you understand?"  
  
The boy began to nod, but soon the nod transformed into a shake. "But why is it you who have to go?"  
  
The King tried to find a simple answer to offer the five years old child. "Because it is very important."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because that person is really very evil."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Had he had more time, Aragorn would have happily played his son's question/answer game. But he had not, hence he had to quickly put a end to it. "Because he was not being nice with his little sister when he was a child."  
  
"Wh-…" Eldarion suddenly broke off and frowned, looking at his father intently. Aragorn could not help smiling any more. "I was not being not nice with her. But I can not play with her, and she is always sleeping or crying."  
  
Aragorn took a deep breath and laid a hand on his son's shoulder before speaking with a very serious tone. "Listen to me carefully Eldarion. Be nice with your sister, and take care of your mother during my absence. Will you do that for me?"  
  
Eldarion's face suddenly became as grave as if he had just been entrusted with a mission of outstanding importance. "I will."  
  
"Good." Aragorn bent over to kiss his son on the forehead. "Now go back to sleep." He turned round and began to walk towards the door, and his heart missed a beat.  
  
"Father?"  
  
"Aye?"  
  
"Can I have a sword to defend them?"  
  
Standing on the doorstep, Aragorn laughed lightly. "We will see."  
  


*****

  
  
Aragorn carefully wrapped the lembas some of Arwen's elven maidens had prepared for them, putting it into his package along with some regular food and a skin of water. He secured his sleeping bag and checked his daggers and sword. As everything was at its place, he made his way to the yard.  
  
His two former companions were already there and ready, as well as most of the men he had chosen for this journey. The latter were taking care of the Noreans, equipping them with what they needed, particularly weapons as none of them carried any. Aragorn saw each of them had been given a dagger as he had requested. A sword could do more harm than good when handled by inexperienced hands, and it was wiser to give them shorter blades.  
  
His decision was confirmed when he saw the way the Noreans handled the daggers, looking at them as if it was the first time they saw one. Only Qeladon, the older man, quickly fastened it to his belt. As for Crireth he hesitated before doing so, while Cindra, the young woman, was still staring at her weapon. She said a few words to her father in her own tongue, and while Aragorn did not speak the language he could tell her tone was definitely one of disapproval.  
  
"Ah, Aragorn! Here you are at last!"  
  
The King turned to face the Dwarf walking to him, closely followed by an Elf.  
  
"Maybe you will be able to solve a little difference of opinion the Elf and I have been having recently." Gimli went on.  
  
"What is it about?" Aragorn asked, hoping it was not another of their endless arguments about their fighting skills.  
  
"As time is an important parameter in this journey, it would be wise to ride on horseback," Legolas began. "Yet it seems no horse has been prepared."  
  
"You are right, my friend. We should ride," Aragorn answered. "But considering the nature of this creature, we will have to take it by surprise, and horses would make us too noticeable. Hence we will go on foot."  
  
Gimli smiled. "I am glad to hear that. I have had during the last few years enough horse riding for a lifetime."  
  
"To be honest, I am glad too for I will not have to endure the Dwarf's constant complaints about horses." Legolas retorted.  
  
Before the situation could become aggravated, Aragorn preferred to leave. "If you will excuse me my friends, I have to go check if everything is ready."  
  
Elf and Dwarf exchanged a look while the King walked away, mirth in their eyes.  
  
Aragorn reviewed his men, and soon all was ready.  
  
It was time to leave.  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Three...  
  
(*) Diola lle, nîn meleth = Thank you, my love  
Well at least that's what it should mean, though I wouldn't be much surprised if you told me I was wrong, as I used a Sindarin/English dictionary, which means the translation is quite literal and might not be totally correct (in that case, feel free to correct me!)  
  
Well, here we are anyway! I hope you liked this chapter, that finished the settlement before the *real* action begins! (if it ever begins...)  
Oh, and there probably won't be any new update before next week. I have an important report to finish (plus oral presentation of the project of course, where would be the fun otherwise?) And I know you guys love to hear about my thrilling life. Don't deny it, I know you do. You just pretend you don't.  
Anyway, that basically means I want many reviews, because I really need to be cheered up these days... (does the puppy eyes look to readers and indicates the so good-looking review button)  
Next chapter: "Cohabitation" (Lots of Legolas in this one, I promise!)  



	5. Cohabitation

**A/N:** This Author's Note will be short this time. I'd just like to thank the reviewers again, especially eck. I really enjoy your comments (and as for the horse argument, I absolutely agree with you. Before writing it I was afraid it might sound too... well... too stereotypical, but I really needed a way to explain why they wouldn't use horses, and then I decided it might be more subtle to tell things that way than plainly)  
  
Anyway, here is the new chapter! Enjoy!  


**Chapter 4:  
Cohabitation**

  
  
The first day of journey unfolded rather quietly. Before leaving, Crireth had located Ederis on a map, and the latter was far ahead of them. The three Noreans had lost a lot of time talking their way out of Linhir with Gondor soldiers, and while they had gained some by riding to Minas Tirith, the creature was still much ahead of them.  
  
How this creature had managed to get past the White City northward unnoticed was beyond Aragorn's understanding. The only passage north was between Minas Tirith and Minas Morgul, and the way was well guarded. If something ill had transpired there he would have heard about it, as he had heard about Linhir.  
  
Another solution might have been to skirt round Minas Tirith and cross the White mountains to the west, but it was an hazardous journey for a lone man and in no way it would have led him that far ahead of them.  
  
For a moment Aragorn doubted Crireth's certitude, and thought the creature might still be in Gondor. But all three Noreans seemed to share the same confidence, and he had no reason to think they would lie.  
  
They had now stopped and were setting up a campfire before dusk. Legolas had offered to collect some wood, and Gimli had given some pretext to go with him. During the day the two of them had not failed to start one of their verbal jousts, and while Aragorn's men were somewhat used to them – the unusual Elf and Dwarf friendship was quite well-known – the Noreans seemed greatly disconcerted. At some point Qeladon had even asked Aragorn if they always behaved like that.  
  
"Only in public…" he had cryptically answered, to Qeladon's greatest puzzlement.  
  
Aragorn turned to give a look at his men, and noticed a behavior he had already observed among them during the last hours of travel. While now unpacking and gathered together, they were whispering to one another, sometimes looking at him, sometimes looking at the Noreans. His instincts told him it boded no good, and he had better resolve the situation quickly.  
  
He silently walked to them, surprising them by asking: "Is there anything wrong?"  
  
The soldiers seemed embarrassed and looked away innocently, as if naught preoccupied them.  
  
"Ethiannor?" Aragorn turned to the highest ranked of his men.  
  
"We…" He hesitated. "We may have a request, my Lord."  
  
"A request?" The King repeated. "What kind of request?" he asked authoritatively.  
  
"It is about the Noreans."  
  
With a stern face, Aragorn crossed his arms on his chest and waited for the soldier to go on. He had not learned him much for the moment. It had been easy to guess where the issue lied.  
  
"The problem is they always talk in their own language. And they might use it at their advantage. I mean… We do not know much about them…"  
  
Aragorn nodded. He had noticed that as well, and he had to admit he was not very happy with it himself. He understood that they might feel more comfortable speaking in Norean, yet the least respect they could have was to speak in Westron so that everyone would understand.  
  
"I will have a talk with them and make sure they speak Westron from now on," he assured.  
  
"Thank you my Lord."  
  
Aragorn turned towards the Noreans. They had settled at some distance. As well as always talking to each other in their own language, he had also noticed they never mingled with the other men. Even now they were doing so, unpacking on their own. They never spoke much, even in Norean, and always remained together, apart from his men.  
  
Those people were aloof folks indeed.  
  
"Crireth," he called, drawing near the man.  
  
"Aye?"  
  
"Could you please confirm the direction Ederis is going?"  
  
"Of course." The clan chief called his daughter and asked her something, and in a few words she answered with a nod.  
  
Aragorn noticed with a slight annoyance that both question and answer were spoken in Norean. While he could make out the general meaning – after all their two languages shared the same origins, the language of Númenor – it was still rather frustrating to not comprehend fully. He understood it could arouse suspicion from his men.  
  
"Ederis is still following the same direction," Crireth finally said. "But I guess you already knew that. I saw you study the tracks today. Trust you not our guidance?"  
  
"I do. But I still do not apprehend how you can know where your fellow is."  
  
Crireth smiled, and as he turned to leave Aragorn called again.  
  
"Crireth…" The Norean turned back to face the King of Gondor. "I would like you, your daughter and your advisor to speak in Westron, even between yourselves. It would ease my men's minds." Aragorn said, omitting voluntarily it would ease his mind as well.  
  
Crireth nodded. "I understand. I will tell Cindra and Qeladon to do so."  
  
As he finished his sentence, footsteps neared the camp. It was Gimli and Legolas, their arms full of pieces of deadwood, enough to keep the fire going all night. They put down the wood near the fire and walked to Aragorn as the latter spoke.  
  
"We need to set the watches for tonight as well."  
  
From where he was sitting, near enough to hear them though he had not intervened yet, Qeladon said: "I suggest one of us Noreans should always be awake to make sure Ederis – and the creature – is not approaching. If none of you see any objection to it, I will take the first watch."  
  
"I admit that considering the abilities of this creature, always knowing where it is might be important, and for that purpose your presence will be valuable. But that creature is not the only danger lying in those lands," Aragorn retorted. "None of you are warriors, and I do not think you are experienced enough to notice those dangers early enough to ensure the security of the camp. A soldier should keep watch with you."  
  
"I will take the first watch then," Legolas immediately offered.  
  
Aragorn nodded. He knew the Elf did not need much sleep, and he remembered that during the Quest of the Ring he had kept watch more often than any of the other members of the Fellowship.  
  
"And I will take the second." Gimli said.  
  
Crireth turned to his daughter, who was sitting at some distance from them. "Cindra?" he called to get her attention. "Will you take the second watch?"  
  
The young woman nodded.  
  
"All right," Aragorn concluded. "This is settled then. Legolas and Qeladon will keep watch the first half of the night, and Gimli and Cindra will keep watch the second half."  
  


*****

  
  
Elven eyes lifted to the starred sky, quickly finding there what they were looking for. Helluin was shining brighter than ever tonight among the other stars, and despite the new moon the camp seemed to be illuminated by some eerie light other than the one produced by the fire.  
  
Legolas' travelling companions were all asleep, laying around the campfire, except Qeladon, the old Norean, and himself. It was a very quiet night indeed, and while the man was rather pleasant, he did not seem very talkative. He himself had not made much efforts to begin a conversation, despite his great will to do so.  
  
The Elf laid his hand on the bark of a nearby tree and closed his eyes, listening to the soft sound of the wind rustling the leaves and letting the comforting feeling it rose fill his heart. It was usually enough to fully appease his mind, but for once it was not.  
  
They were getting farther and farther from the sea, yet Legolas could feel his sea longing growing hour after hour, reaching a peak during this watch. It was as if the presence of those sea travelers alone was enough to arouse his sea longing.  
  
He had always thought that this sea longing was no more than a strong and almost irresistible call to cross the Great Sea to meet his kind in Aman, but it seemed now there was more than met the eyes. He wanted to know more about the sea itself. And the Noreans practically lived on the sea…  
  
Their watch would end soon, and Legolas was conscious it might be the only occasion he would have to talk freely with one of those people. Later on they might all be too preoccupied by the creature or by some still unknown danger to have time for that. And while his curiosity grew stronger, he refused to ask anything to the Norean, fearing that satisfying his curiosity would strengthen his longing.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
The Elf almost jumped at the hearing of his name. Near him, Qeladon was looking at him with questioning eyes. The interrogation was quickly replaced by a slight amusement.  
  
"A rare event it is to catch an Elf daydreaming…" the old man said with a smile, and before Legolas could answer anything he added: "I think this watch is reaching its end. I will go wake Cindra at once, for I am in great need of rest myself now."  
  
The man stood up, and Legolas watched as he walked away, somewhat glad he had managed to resist his desire but at the same time sad he had not learned anything about the sea, unable to tell which feeling was stronger in his heart.  
  
Legolas walked to where his Dwarf friend was sleeping and put a hand on his shoulder. He knew Gimli to be a rather heavy sleeper, but with a few words spoken at his ear he woke him up. The Dwarf blinked a few times to dismiss weariness and quickly straightened up with a nod directed at the Elf.  
  
No other word was needed between the two of them, and Legolas walked away to swiftly climb a tree. There, he sat on a high branch and leant up against the trunk, taking a deep breath and hoping that from this place he would manage to stifle his longing.  
  
Gimli stood up and gave a round look at the camp. Everything was quiet, and there was only Qeladon waking a young Norean warmly wrapped in her bedroll. He watched as half-sleeping she dragged herself from beneath the quilt and stood indolently. She walked near the campfire while he decided to settle at a strategic place to observe the surroundings.  
  
For the shortest moment their eyes met, and what the Dwarf read in hers was something close to resentment. He could bet she had not forgotten what he had said the day before and still held it against him, but he did not care. He might have said those words in the heat of the moment as he often did, they had expressed his feelings. He did not trust those people, and wondered how Aragorn could so confidently.  
  
His gaze wandered over the sleeping forms of his companions, and without much surprise he did not find the slender silhouette of an Elf among them. Looking up, it took him only a few seconds to spot Legolas, sitting high in a tree. By now he was quite used to his friend's habits, and while he had expected to find him there, it somewhat worried him. He knew the Silvan Elf usually took refuge in a tree whenever he needed calm and reflection, or just wished to be alone.  
  
Gimli had seen the sideways looks the Elf had granted the Noreans with. He had seen the curiosity in his eyes. Legolas had been less scathing than usual during their verbal battle. He knew something was haunting him, and he could guess quite well what it was. His sea longing. Legolas excelled in dissimulating it when it manifested itself, and while Gimli had always pretended to not notice it to not hurt the Elf's pride, he had never been taken in. It distressed the Dwarf to know his friend suffered from it, and he resented the Noreans for that as they were responsible for Legolas' sea longing renewed outbreak.  
  
And he feared this longing would soon be so strong Legolas would not be able to resist it any more and would have no other choice than to cross the Great Sea and meet his kin's fate in Aman. Leaving Middle-earth. Leaving him. He knew such a day would inevitably come, but he hoped it to be the latest possible, and just imagining it would happen ached.  
  
Those Noreans might not be warriors and hence be rather harmless, yet who they were and where they came from gave them the power to take his best friend from him. And for that he would always hold a grudge against them.  
  
Gimli turned his gaze back to Cindra, now sitting against a tree, and their eyes shortly met again. The young woman quickly averted her eyes while Gimli sighed. The end of the night would be very, very long.  
  
After half an hour of muted war and mutual ignorance, Gimli decided to opt for a momentary truce. Starting a conversation with her would not kill him. While he was about to try to get her attention, he noticed that from where she was Cindra was looking intently at something farther in the woods. And that was somewhere near North. The direction they were going to follow the creature…  
  
Gimli tensed. Had she seen something? Sensed something? He could not believe someone as inexperienced as her would have been able to see or hear any nearby foes before him, even more before the Elf perched in his tree. Gimli hastened to her side.  
  
"Cindra? What is going on?" he asked, keeping his voice low, but the woman seemed too concentrated to pay any attention to him. "Cindra!" he called again, slightly shaking her by the shoulders.  
  
She eventually turned to face him, jumping and obviously surprised to see him there and so close. She stared at him with astonishment until he asked with concern:  
  
"Is it near? Is it coming?"  
  
"I… I beg your pardon?" she stuttered at a total loss.  
  
"The creature!" Gimli exclaimed, annoyed, but still made sure his voice was low enough to not wake up his companions.  
  
"I… hum… No… Ederis is still farther North… Why?"  
  
"What were you looking at then?"  
  
Cindra seemed to try to understand what he was talking about. "Nothing, I was just… thinking." At Gimli's grumbling she sighed. "I do not understand. What are you accusing me of?"  
  
The Dwarf gave her a long look. She was on the defensive, ready to bite.  
  
"Or maybe you believe I do not have enough common sense to comprehend what you think," she said bitterly.  
  
Anger began to build up in Gimli's heart. Had she been a man he would have gladly made her eat her boldness, but he had some scruples. After all she was only repeating his own words.  
  
To his greatest surprise, it was she who spoke first: "I… I apologize." She was looking down, obviously embarrassed. "I usually do not behave like that, but I have been a bit… under stress lately." She gave him a shy look, but not seeing any reaction she quickly averted her eyes once more, directing them toward north again with a sad sigh.  
  
The truth was Gimli was too flabbergasted to have any reaction. First she attacked him and the second after she apologized. So there were folks stranger than elves after all… He felt a bit guilty as he was the one who had provoked her ire yet she was the one to apologize, but his pride would not allow him to do the same in return.  
  
The young woman maintained a stubborn silence again, crossing her arms on her breast, and Gimli decided to sit again at some distance, but kept an eye on her. After a few minutes he saw her nod off, slowly falling asleep. He considered waking her up as she was supposed to keep watch, but dismissed the idea though he was not sure why.  
  
Legolas finally went down his tree, barely making more noise than the wings of a butterfly. He had at last managed to control the call of the sea, but wondered how long he would be able to hold it. Every time the fight revealed harder, and he knew that soon he would give in.  
  
He silently walked to Gimli, stopping next to his friend, but quickly noticed the still form of the sleeping Norean a few meters from them. The Dwarf followed his gaze, and when the Elf began to move he held him back by the arm.  
  
"Let her sleep," he quietly said, shaking his head.  
  
"She is supposed to keep watch tonight," Legolas objected. "She may not be used to it but she will have to. Soon our security might depend on those people's vigilance."  
  
"You are right, but for the moment the creature is far ahead from us and thus is not a danger yet," Gimli stated though he had almost thought otherwise only moments before. "As for the other dangers that may lie in those forests, I can not think of any that an half-asleep human would detect before a fully awake Elf, as it looks like you do not intend to have some sleep tonight."  
  
Seeing his friend raise an eyebrow at his last sentence, the Dwarf hastened to add: "Of course I would have preferred the company of anyone but an Elf, but it seems I do not really have the choice."  
  
"Of course…" Legolas smiled, and eventually sat silently near the Dwarf.   
  
The latter was hoping the Elf had found peace in the tree of his, and to be honest he was dying to ask him what had transpired with Qeladon. But he could not ask directly for his concern might be too obvious, especially since Legolas probably thought he had not noticed his uneasiness.  
  
"The air is cold tonight," he began, "though the sky is clear."  
  
Legolas nodded while a bit puzzled by his friend's strange statement.  
  
"I noticed that kind of things happened near lakes or rivers. Important amounts of water seem to chill the surroundings." He paused. "It is probably the same with the sea."  
  
Legolas slowly turned his head to give a long look at the Dwarf.  
  
Gimli shrugged. "What?"  
  
Legolas chuckled and shook his head. "Dwarves are really not made for subtlety…" he answered. A thought suddenly crossed his mind, and he added, smiling: "And I am quite sure subtlety feels the same."  
  
"Legolas…"  
  
"Actually, I even think subtlety would refuse to reside in a Dwarf's mind. Subtlety probably has enough pride to wish to be found in a decent place."  
  
"Legolas, if you are seeking a confrontation, this will not work."  
  
Legolas sighed. "I really thought you had more pride yourself, Master Dwarf…"  
  
"Oh trust me I do, Master Elf, but I prefer to wait for daytime. At the moment everyone is asleep, hence no one would be able to see my victory over you."  
  
The Elf laughed lightly. "I am afraid this is a bit presumptuous of you."  
  
"Well laugh once more and I will show you who is being presumptuous."  
  
From where he was sleeping, or more likely pretending to be sleeping at the moment, Aragorn smiled. Those two never stopped, did they?  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Four...  
  
Helluin = Elvish name for the star actually called Sirius (source: Encyclopedia of Arda glyphweb.com/arda/)(I hope the link will work this time...)  
  
Well, I hope you liked this chapter! Feel free to give me your opinion in a review! (actually I'd love you to do so...)  
Next chapter: "Friendships and Losses" 


	6. Friendships and Losses

**A/N:** I'm terribly sorry for the delay before posting this chapter. I had to prepare my moving out, so my computer has been in boxes for a few days (quite literally), add to that a slight writer's block and a few friends coming back to homeland, and you get that kind of delay. Anyway, I'd like to warmly thank my reviewers again. It's really great to know you enjoy this story, and I find it being a great motivation for me.  
I won't delay any further, so here is the new chapter.  
  


**Chapter 5:  
Friendships and Losses**

  
  
Several days passed by without much trouble. During all the journey they had followed Anduin river northward, and many times had Aragorn wondered if the creature knew where it was going. Did it have a specific destination or was it just walking aimlessly?  
  
West of them was Fangorn, north laid the Golden Forest, while north-east and beyond the river the south of Mirkwood could be found. All three forests were approximately at the same distance from where they were now, but the creature seemed decided to go north though, and Aragorn tried to guess what it could be seeking there.  
  
The elven realm of Lorien? Since Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn left their lands for Aman, the realm was slowly fading, and there no more was much to find there. If it really was power that the creature was looking for like Crireth had suggested it would probably not acquire it there. Maybe he had to look farther north. The Lonely Mountains, Mirkwood? No matter what the creature's destination was if it had one, as long as they would not know what it was searching they would not be able to foresee the way to follow.  
  
During the last days, they had only crossed the path of a group of Orcs, but had had no problem to subdue them. Since the fall of both Sauron and Saruman, Orcs were no longer united to obey a master and were now organized in less large companies, easier to hunt down. The travelers endured no losses, only a few light wounds. On that occasion, the Noreans showed their knowledge about healing, though Aragorn's would have been largely sufficient. But the King of Gondor was glad to see they were healers indeed, comforting him in thinking they had told the truth in the first place.  
  
There were still a few tensions between Aragorn's soldiers and the Noreans, but their relationships were definitely improving. Nonetheless, Gimli still showed his distrust, which was not really surprising for one who knew the Dwarf's stubbornness.  
  
On their part, the Noreans were beginning to show serious signs of fatigue. Two nights out of three they had to keep watch, and despite the turnover they could not get as much sleep as they needed. But now they were drawing really close to the creature, they could not allow themselves a single night of inattention…  
  


*****

  
  
It snorted, still walking forward. Stupid humans. Following it had been foolish of them. They might know where it was, thanks to its host's abilities it knew exactly where its pursuers were as well. And it knew they were getting closer.  
  
It should have killed them all before leaving.  
  
It hated them so much. Those grotesque beings, always having to feed and to sleep, it thought, cursing the incompetence of its host. The latter was hungry and exhausted, but the few stops it had allowed to content its human host's needs exasperated it.  
  
It needed a new host. More tough. More powerful.  
  
As it heard noise around it, it smirked. Now that was getting interesting… It stayed still, exposing its host without cover, looking round as Orcs came out of bushes and quickly circled him.  
  
"Look who is here…" one of the foul creatures hissed, probably their leader. "A man wandering alone…" he added, slowly and cockily stepping towards the Norean. The Orc unsheathed his sword with unconcealed delight. "This is going to be a real feast…"  
  
As soon as he had finished his sentence, the young man threw his arm out in front and laid a hand on the other's shoulder, a smirk on his face.  
  
The Orc stared at the hand, ire flashing in his eyes. He growled in anger, showing his sharp teeth, and cast the darkest look to the man, meeting his eyes and lifting his sword. As he was about to strike, the Orc suddenly froze, staring at the man as if hypnotized.  
  
After no more than two seconds and before his fellows could finish unsheathing their own swords to take care of the impudent, the Orc leader seemed to regain consciousness as in a harsh movement he pushed the man away, making him fall back.  
  
The Norean looked up, dazed, observing his surroundings as if he was seeing them for the first time. The sight of the many unfriendly warriors circling him brought panic upon his face.  
  
The Orc looked at his fellows around him. "Kill him," he ordered coldly, taking a step backward.  
  
With horror in his eyes, the young man watched defenseless as Orcs rushed towards him, while their leader enjoyed the vision, a smirk appearing on his lips.  
  
This new host was so much more convenient… At least for the time being…  
  


*****

  
  
All three Noreans suddenly stopped at the exact same moment with faraway looks. Gimli, walking right behind Qeladon, almost collided with the old man. Aragorn, leading the way, immediately turned back when Crireth no longer was at his side. The soldiers of Gondor looked at them warily while the trio exchanged worried glances.  
  
"What is going on?" Aragorn asked, voicing everyone's silent question.  
  
Crireth turned to face him and sighed. "I fear we might have a problem." He paused, hesitant. "Ederis is dead."  
  
Rumblings rose among the soldiers. The host was dead? What did that mean then? That the creature was dead too?  
  
"Maybe he is not," Cindra protested rather vehemently. "Maybe he just –"  
  
"Cindra," her father interrupted, "you felt him fade as I did. Probably even better than I did."  
  
"There might be another explanation. With this mind-controlling creature's tricks we can not be sure about –"  
  
"You know it is the only possible meaning," Crireth interrupted once more but with irritation this time, insisting more strongly.  
  
His daughter took a step toward him. "I refuse to believe he is dead, and I will not give up all hope until I see his dead body!"  
  
"Look, I know he was your friend, but keeping any hope would be foolish of you. Ederis is dead," Crireth concluded, emphasizing the last word.  
  
Sentence after sentence the tone rose, the tension between father and daughter almost palpable. It reached a height when the young woman coldly answered something in her own language, and the bitterness in her voice made it obvious they were no tender words.  
  
At the sight of Crireth's outraged expression, no one around dared ask her to speak in Westron, and actually most of the persons witnessing the argument even wished them to go on in Norean.  
  
"May I remind you," Crireth began calmly but as coldly as his daughter had talked to him, "that I am your father and the chief of your clan. And as such I await that you show the respect you owe me!"  
  
"I will show you the respect you think you deserve when you –"  
  
"Peace, my children," Qeladon quickly interrupted to everyone's relief, stepping between them. "This is an ill moment for that kind of quarrel. We have important concerns that require our full attention."  
  
Aragorn stepped towards the group as well. While he could guess they were dealing with personal issues that were none of his business, he could not let them fight like that. They needed to remain united no matter the problems. "Whatever is the reason behind your disagreement," he began, "may I suggest that you keep it for a more suitable moment and place?" Aragorn knew his words to be a bit harsh, but he had no other choice. No matter what those Noreans had been through of late, he had to make sure the message got through. Aragorn was not sure what was exactly going on between father and daughter, but they would have to keep it aside for the time being.  
  
Crireth took a few deep breaths and rapidly calmed down. He nodded. "You are both right. We have no time for this. Please accept my apologies for allowing that to happen," he said, looking mainly at Aragorn. When he turned his gaze to his daughter, she stubbornly averted her eyes.  
  
An awkward and embarrassed silence settled, while Aragorn gave a look at the sun approaching the skyline. "We should set up a campfire," he simply said as if naught had happened.  
  


*****

  
  
The whole area around the campfire was uncomfortably silent. The violent dispute between the two Noreans had spread an ill ambiance that had lasted until nightfall. Even Gimli and Legolas had not dared start an argument of their own, even if between the two of them it was naught but a game.  
  
As for Legolas, he was really worried by that quarrel. First of all, any kind of dissension could become extremely harmful to their association. If the creature had survived to its host, it was now dangerously close, and it was a bad moment to divide the few forces they had. Also, never would he have dared stand up to his own father like Cindra had, and he feared that the real issue between the two of them laid much deeper than what met the eyes.  
  
On the opposite side of the fire, Aragorn sat near the Norean clan's chief. "Crireth…" he said with a formal nod.  
  
"My Lord…" the other man answered, mirroring the King's nod.  
  
Aragorn hesitated a few seconds before talking. It was none of his business. Yet in a way it was. "Crireth, do you feel there is anything I should know before we continue this journey?"  
  
Crireth laid a puzzled look on him. "I am afraid I do not understand, my Lord."  
  
"What happened with your daughter. We can not allow that to happen again."  
  
"I know, my Lord. It will not. Cindra's reaction was only due to grief or exhaustion. Or most probably both. We have all been through a lot lately. There is no need to worry about what she said."  
  
Aragorn kept a scrutinizing look on the Norean. He was right, the young woman would probably not have reacted the same way had she not endured all those tiring night watches. But that could not be the only reason. "Allow me to ask you that question again. Is there anything I should know?"  
  
Crireth answered with a hint of irritation in his voice. "Nothing that would endanger anyone here, if that is what you are wondering."  
  
"Crireth, anything that can provoke any kind of tension can potentially endanger someone. We are dealing with a mind-controlling creature here. We have to trust each other. I am responsible for everyone's safety here, and if something can put it at stake I should know about it."  
  
The Norean sighed. "You are right. I should tell you. The origin of our argument might come from the fact that I never was very fond of Ederis."  
  
Aragorn stared at the other man. "Said you not he was a good man?"  
  
"I did. But I never said I appreciated him." He paused. "The reasons are various and personal, and if you do not mind I do not wish to talk about that."  
  
Aragorn nodded. It was not necessary to go through those details.  
  
"All that you might need to know is that his friendship with Cindra has always been a source of tension between my daughter and I. She probably thought I never intended to find Ederis alive. But do not worry, King Elessar. I know my daughter. She will come over it soon enough."  
  
Aragorn frowned. "She is impulsive," he stated.  
  
"She is young. She will learn." The Norean sighed. "But I am afraid our presence is no longer much needed as we are not able to help you locate the creature any more, and we are now more of a burden in this quest. Ederis is dead, King Elessar. Cindra might refuse to acknowledge it, but he is. And with him dead, we have no way to know where the creature is."  
  
"Do not despair, Crireth. You will lead us to the last place Ederis was, and we will try to find out what happened. Maybe we will discover clues about the fate of the creature."  
  
"May you be right, King Elessar. But I fear we have already irremediably lost its track."  
  


*****

  
  
They were so close to where the creature had been that before the end of the next day they reached their destination. They came across a recent campfire, established in a clearing near the river.  
  
Aragorn knelt near the remains of the fire, taking a handful of ashes. "The ashes are still hot. They were here last night." His gaze wandered around, examining the ground carefully. "Thirty to forty Orcs rested here," he added. A detail suddenly caught his attention and he walked there, careful to not destroy any clue on his way.  
  
Everybody around watched him expectantly, knowing he might be the only one to be able to give a meaning to all those indicators. Hence they all stayed at a respectful distance, making sure they did not hinder the King's moves.  
  
Aragorn knelt again near the spot he had noticed, brushing the tip of his fingers against the grass blades. Blood had dried there. Gathering all the clues around, he finally said: "There has been a fight here, a lone man against many Orcs." His eyes followed a hardly visible trail of blood that only the most experienced eyes could have detected. The slightly flattened grass indicated that the body had been dragged farther from the clearing. He followed the almost imperceptible path, and quickly found what he was seeking.  
  
Slightly beyond the border of the clearing laid a lifeless body. It carried marks of mutilation Orcs often inflicted to their victims. Obviously they had taken a lot of fun with this one… Aragorn immediately guessed he was the Norean they had been following and seeking.  
  
As he stood still for a few seconds, his companions walked closer to see what had caught his attention and discovered the scene. Among the Noreans, the men did not seem shocked by the vision as they somewhat expected finding their fellow dead. Only the woman was visibly moved, taking in the sight for no more than a heartbeat and immediately averting her eyes. She brought a hand to her mouth, looking as if she was about to throw up, and began to take deep breaths. Her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders, whispering quiet words at her ear, and led her away from that place.  
  
"Now we know for sure what happened to that man," Gimli told the King of Gondor, "but we have no way to know if the creature is still living."  
  
"That is why we have to find that band of Orcs," Aragorn stated. "If the creature is still alive, it can only be among them. We will stay here for the night, and track them down as soon as the sun rises tomorrow. They must not be very far, and I am sure we will soon catch up with them."  
  
Legolas frowned. The tension he could sense in the trees around them talked of a dark presence, which meant Aragorn was right. Those Orcs were still close. But once they would have chased them, how would they ever be sure they got rid of the creature?  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas inhaled the fresh air of the falling night from a high branch in a tree. Looking down, he could see the campfire, established at the same place than the one of the Orcs the night before.  
  
Surprised, he noticed Cindra walking away from the fire, alone, towards the woods. As she passed below his tree he could not help warning her. "You should not venture there."  
  
With a slight amusement, Legolas watched her look around in an attempt to locate him. Only someone who knew Elves well would look up to find one. "Up here in the tree," he added.  
  
She eventually looked up, but it took her several long seconds to discern his silhouette. "Oh," the young woman just said.  
  
"You should not venture in those woods," the Elf repeated. "It might be dangerous."  
  
"I… huh…" she hesitated. "I am just going to collect some wood… For… the fire…" Cindra finally stuttered.  
  
A quick glance at said fire was more than enough for Legolas to see that there was already a pile of wood ready near it, sufficient to last the whole night.  
  
Cindra did not wait for an answer and continued on her way, but the moonlight was briefly mirrored by a tear beginning to roll down her cheek. It confirmed Legolas' thoughts. Since the discovery of the Norean's body, the young woman had done her best to hold back a grief that could be expected as she was Ederis' best friend. But her pride probably did not allow her to grieve publicly, and now the night had fallen she was seeking some solitude.  
  
The Elf kept a close eye on her as she advanced and eventually sat at some distance. Probably a bit too far from the campfire for her safety he estimated, but he did not wish to call her back. She most likely thought to be out of sight, and stopping her would be extremely rude and out of place.  
  
Soon she wrapped her arms around her folded legs, rocking back and forth, and allowed herself to cry freely at last.  
  
Legolas immediately averted his eyes to allow her some privacy, though because of his keen elven senses he could still hear her sobs. His gaze unconsciously laid on Gimli, and the thought of loosing one's best friend immediately came back to his mind.  
  
He could not imagine how he would endure the loss of the Dwarf. He would never admit it to anyone, but their friendship had grown unbelievably strong along the years. Even if most of the words spoken between the two of them were harsh ones, it was only a facade that hid a deep yet surprising understanding for ones belonging to so different races.  
  
Befriending mortals could reveal extremely dangerous when you were an Elf. Many times had his father warned him about those risks during his younger days, but it was only now that Legolas was beginning to understand the full significance of Thranduil's sayings. He had of course always known that he would eventually loose the Dwarf one way or another, be it in a battle or of aging, and that there was nothing he could do about it. But he had always dismissed the thought, even when the odds of a fight made death likely.  
  
But witnessing the grief of someone who had just lost her best friend reminded him of the fragility of any relation with a mortal. The fragility of their lives. And that thought revived old fears coming from the past.  
  
The Dwarf's eyes suddenly rose to meet his. He had probably felt his gaze, and returned a questioning look. Legolas decided to get down from the tree, and walked towards his friend to eventually sit near him. Gimli's gaze was still a questioning one.  
  
"Is there anything wrong?" the Dwarf asked in a low voice.  
  
Legolas turned to face his friend, surprised by the question. His unease must have been really evident if Gimli felt the need to ask. Especially since he usually never voiced that kind of question. Not that he did not care, the Elf was sure, but it was part of their unspoken common plan to not show their friendship too openly.  
  
Some friendships were built on discussions. Theirs was one made of silence, built on trust. During battles you had to know your ally's thoughts and to anticipate his intentions without any word spoken. They could share more in one look than in many sentences.  
  
Yet there were things that could not be said in a gaze.  
  
"Do you remember the battle in Helm's Deep?" Legolas eventually asked.  
  
Gimli smiled. "You still owe me a visit of the glittering caves…" But why was his friend suddenly evoking those old memories? the Dwarf wondered.  
  
"I know." The Elf took a deep breath. "At some point during the fight, we were separated."  
  
"This is when I ended in the caves."  
  
"Exactly. As we had not had news from the groups of warriors you were with, for a moment I…" He hesitated and sighed.  
  
First questioning, Gimli's gaze became worried, but he remained silent, hoping the Elf would go on. He was usually able to guess his thoughts, but for once he found himself unable to do so.  
  
"For a moment I thought you dead," Legolas finished in a whisper. He went on almost inaudible: "But I dismissed the thought, and decided I would not consider you dead until I had an undeniable proof."  
  
Gimli stared at him with surprise. "I… I did not know about that."  
  
"Of course. You eventually came back alive. There was no need to tell you."  
  
For a second Gimli wondered why the Elf was telling him now, but he suddenly understood, seeing the analogy with the Norean's death. Cindra had first refused to acknowledge the latter's death, until they found the body of her best friend. Her best friend… The notion echoed in the Dwarf's mind. Making the analogy implicitly meant Legolas considered him as his best friend.  
  
That thought never really occurred to him before. He himself considered the Elf as his best friend, the only one he could trust in a battle with complete confidence – save maybe Aragorn – but he was never totally sure about the other's feelings. He sometimes had doubts because of Elves strange moods, and he already considered himself lucky to have the archer's trust and friendship.  
  
But Legolas had just virtually admitted he considered him, an ordinary Dwarf from the Lonely Mountain, as his best friend.  
  
"Thank you," Gimli finally said, to the Elf's greatest astonishment.  
  
"What are you thanking me for?" Legolas inquired at a total loss.  
  
The Dwarf smiled. The Elf had no idea how much what he had just said meant to him. "For being my friend," he just said.  
  
It was Legolas' turn to stare at him with surprise. A mischievous smile suddenly appeared on his lips. "If you think you – " He suddenly broke off and his smile disappeared as he pricked up his ears as if he had just heard something.  
  
"What is going on?" Gimli wondered. "Is there – "  
  
The Elf interrupted him with a movement of his hand while concentrating on his senses. He quickly identified the origin of the noise. "Orcs…" he hissed, and got up swiftly. "Orcs!" he repeated aloud this time for all their companions.  
  
He immediately caught Aragorn's attention. The former Ranger gave orders to his men, trusting fully the Elf's senses. While everyone prepared their weapons, the man walked to Legolas. "Where?" he asked.  
  
"Right over there," the archer answered, indicating the west with his free hand while the other held his bow.  
  
It did not surprise Aragorn, as the signs of leaving he had noted indicated the Orcs had gone westward. But to the east laid the river, and there would be no retreat possible for them if need be. "How many?" he enquired again.  
  
"The whole company that rested here yesterday, I would say."  
  
Near them, the two Norean men prepared their daggers, but Crireth seemed rather worried. He was looking around as if searching for something. "Where is Cindra?" he eventually asked with concern.  
  
Legolas suddenly froze at hearing that question. He knew all too well where she was. His gaze turned to the direction where he knew her to be. The direction the Orcs were coming… "She is –"  
  
He was not given the time to finish his sentence as a female scream rang out from the distance.  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Five...  
  
Hope you liked it! And that the scene with Legolas and Gimli discussing their friendship didn't sound too dull. I've just always wanted to acknowledge the moment during Helm's Deep battle when Legolas thought Gimli dead (and basically said "too bad Gimli might be dead, I won't be able to tell him my new killing score")(one of the few lines in the books that made me smile, along with the one where Merry kicks Pippin to wake him up when they have to greet King Theoden in Isengard...)  
  
Anyway, let me tell you that real big stuff is coming in next chapter (and by real big stuff I mean THE real big stuff). There are some tricky parts to write, so it might take me a while to have it done and make it sound right. But in the meantime, I'd love you to give me your opinion so far. And I'm also quite open to suggestions. I have a few next chapters already planned out (yes, I actually know where I'm going, can you believe that?), but I could still add in some details (and you know how much I love details...).  
  
Next chapter: "Possession" (and yes, I love to tease my readers with the titles of the next chapters!) 


	7. Possession

**A/N:** And here it is, the so awaited chapter! (well I don't know about you but personnally I really looked forward to writing it. Actually it was one of the couple of chapters that I already had in mind when I first imagined the plot). Thanks again to all my reviewers (including **Lori** who sent me a private mail, that was very nice of you! ;-)  
  
I think I should also answer a question **eck** asked in a review (and by the way, thanks for saying you had no complaints with my ponctuation. Do you mind if I send you the number of a former (evil) english teacher who kept ticking half the commas in my english essays?)  
Yes, Cindra was Ederis' (that's the "Norean dude's" name ;-) girlfriend. But as pointed out in previous chapter, her father didn't really like the guy. So even if he knew them to be best friends since childhood, I don't think she would let him know (at least not immediately) that from friends they became lovers (well I believe she wouldn't go all "hey, you know that best friend of mine you hate? well we're dating now, don't you think it's cool?")  
I think I even hinted at it as early as the introduction (or was it the prologue?), when she says something along the lines of being tired of hiding, and then she teases the guy by asking him if he's afraid of her father (ah, details...)  
So basically yes, they were dating, but no, the father didn't know about it (I guess I watched too many soaps during my younger days...)(aaah, high school, good old days... *sniffle*)  
I had planned to explain this a bit more clearly in a later chapter, but I might as well explain it now, as that part of the story is not essential to the plot. I didn't want to give the OCs too much importance, so I just gave them some background to be able to develop the characters a little.  
  
The only thing you need to remember about that is that they were first best friends, then lovers, but as they didn't tell anyone about it, everyone (and by everyone I mean everyone on the journey)(except Cindra of course, duh) think they still are (or more likely were, considering the recent death of a certain OC) best friends.  
(wow, I can't believe it took me that long to explain such a simple thing...)   
  
**Stupid question:** Does "OC" mean "Original Character" or "Other Character"?  
  
**Important note:** Some parts of this chapter may be a bit confusing because of pronouns (yeah, it's weird, I know). I hope it's not though. I made my best to make it the least confusing possible The main problem is that english is not my native language, and in my actual native language there is no real equivalent for the pronoun "it" (one would either use the word for "he" or "she"). I don't want to tell too much here (to not spoil the plot too much), but just keep in mind that when refering to the creature I used "it" and "its" (at least most of the time...)   
  
I won't delay any further, so here is the new chapter.  
  
  
  


**Chapter 6  
Possession**

  
  
A scream escaped Cindra's throat as an arrow embedded itself into the bark of the tree behind her, mere inches from her head. Panicked, she stared at the arrow for a few seconds and then at her surroundings, but could not find where it came from. Incomprehension and fright filled her heart, and she quickly got up. She produced a new scream when a second arrow hit the tree, exactly where she had just stood.  
  
Realization suddenly sank in. They were being attacked. Her hand frantically laid on her belt, looking for the dagger that had been given to her. She cursed herself for her stupidity when she found none, panicking more and more. She had left it at the campfire. The campfire, she thought. She had to go back to the campfire. She looked around. She did not know where the campfire was. She had not paid much attention on her way there, and her actual state of panic was not really helping.  
  
She finally decided to just flee the other way the arrows were coming, hoping it would lead her farther from whoever was shooting them and closer to the campfire. She gave a quick look back while running, still trying to find out who was attacking. But all she could make out in the darkness of the night were dark shadows moving swiftly.  
  
As she looked in front of her again, she bumped into something and loudly fell backwards. Helping herself up with her elbows, her eyes slowly lifted to the level of the face of the creature in front of her. An Orc, she guessed. If she had been panicked until then, it was naught compared to how she felt now. Her eyes widened as she saw him draw a sword and raise it above her head. Her pulse fastened and her breaths grew louder as she closed her eyes, readying herself to receive the blow that was now inevitable.  
  
But all that came was a thud near her along with war cries far behind. She slowly opened her eyes, and jumped when she discovered the Orc lying dead on the ground, an arrow transpiercing his forehead. She quickly turned round, and saw Legolas at some distance, already shooting another arrow at the upcoming Orcs. At his sides were Gimli, King Elessar and his men, as well as the two other Noreans. All carried their weapons, ready for battle.  
  
She could now see their enemies, and tried to number them. Three dozens, maybe more. They were too many, they did not stand a chance against them. Or did they? The Orcs had now arrived near the warriors and the blades had begun to shed the blood of the creatures.  
  
Gimli was doing pretty well, making swirls with his axe with a dexterity no one would have expected from someone like him at first sight. At each of his blows an Orc fell, and every time a gleam lit the Dwarf's eyes as if he enjoyed fighting.  
  
As for Aragorn his sword knew no respite, cutting and transpiercing any enemy close enough. Despite the last years spent in Minas Tirith, he had not lost his touch and his attacks were lethal.  
  
Many Orcs fell under Legolas' shots, but they were now too close to allow him to use his bow. He had produced his two short knives and was using them wisely. As he was taking out his right blade out of an Orc's stomach, his keen senses alerted him of a presence behind him. He turned swiftly, throwing his left blade, and when the tip was about to transpierce the flesh of his opponent he felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder while his eyes met the other's.  
  
Time suddenly froze, and it seemed everything had stopped around him. He sensed the Orc's eyes boring into his own, boring into his mind, and despite his efforts to avert his gaze he could not. He felt trapped.  
  
Unable to move, he was like hypnotized while he fought back with all his strength the peculiar sensation that was beginning to overwhelm him. He felt cold tentacles encircling his mind and soul, catching him in their tight embrace. Legolas tried once more to avert his eyes but failed again.  
  
Never his forces had abandoned the Elf before, yet it was happening now as despite his efforts his mind was slowly surrendering to the assaults, sinking into a dark place he had ignored the existence.  
  
Time suddenly started to flow normally again and the blade finished its course in the Orc's stomach, an unusual smirk for an Elf appearing on Legolas' face.  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas emerged from some kind of unconsciousness that seemed to have prevented any coherent thinking until then. His senses were attenuated; the sounds were muffled, his vision diminished. It was such an unusual situation for an Elf he felt extremely disoriented.  
  
It took him some time to take in his surroundings. It seemed to be the morning, and he and his companions were gathered around something he could not identify yet. When exactly had the battle ended? What in the Valar's name was going on? Why had he no memory of the events of the last hours?  
  
He eventually understood what laid between all of them. Graves freshly dug, several of them. Who had died? He only remembered Ederis, the Norean, hence who else had died? Had they suffered losses during the fight? Why could he not remember? Among the persons present, he noticed the absence of two of Aragorn's men as well as Qeladon, the old Norean. Had all three of them been killed? When? His memories were so confused…  
  
He felt there was an imperceptible smile playing on his lips, yet it was not he who had decided it. Again, he wondered what was going on. He wanted to turn to Gimli at his side to ask him about the situation, but his body would not obey him.  
  
Legolas was now extremely uncomfortable. He was convinced something totally abnormal was happening. His unease increased when his head slightly turned, but at a moment he had not wished to, and it was not towards Gimli but towards Aragorn. He tried to force his head the other way, in vain.  
  
Panic began to grow in his heart. As an Elf, he was used to having a great control over his body, and suddenly he was deprived of it. He felt completely trapped. It was like watching his own life being lived by someone else without being able to intervene. Like being under this someone's will. Like being a stranger in his own body…  
  
Around the tombs, the two remaining Noreans stood close to each other with sorrowful gazes next to what he guessed to be Qeladon's grave. Legolas wanted to share their grief. He had grown to like the old man along the last days, appreciating his knowledge and wisdom, and he would have wanted so much to show him the respect he deserved… But there was still this annoying smile on his lips, though no one around seemed to notice it.  
  
While everyone dispersed, Cindra made a few steps towards him. Once in front of the Elf, she spoke a few words with something that looked like a grateful smile, though sadness still shone in her eyes. What was she thanking him for? He searched through his memory, forcing it back. After much efforts, he eventually remembered the beginning of the battle. He had killed that Orc that menaced her, which was probably why she was thanking him.  
  
The young woman slowly walked away and joined her father. Both of them were followed by the Elf's gaze. He hated the Noreans so much he wished all of them dead. Legolas paled at the thought, or would have had he been in control of his body. It was not him who had thought this, he was sure of that.  
  
He had to find out what happened. He remembered quite clearly the beginning of the battle now. Everything seemed to be under control then, so what could possibly have happened? His arrows had killed nine Orcs – he usually kept the count in mind to compare his performance with Gimli afterwards as they often did – and his blades at least two of them. That was after then that his memories became fuzzy. There had been this Orc behind him… The latter had not tried to attack him, but instead put a hand on his shoulder…  
  
Legolas suddenly remembered. The gaze. The unusual sensation overwhelming him. The coldness abruptly encircling his mind. And then the void.  
  
He knew. He knew what had just befallen him. It was the creature, moving from the Orc's body to his own, that had caused his dizziness. And now it was in him.  
  
Was it all that it took? The slightest physical and eye contact, and the creature was able to switch from a body to another? So easy… So dangerously, wickedly easy…  
  
Once again his gaze laid on the Noreans with disgust. No, it was not his feelings, but its, the creature's. Not his, he repeated. The pure hatred he experienced was not his, he tried to convince himself. It was all so confusing, his own feelings mixing with the creature's ones…  
  
Legolas allowed himself to walk to Aragorn and Gimli but yet, there was not much he could do anyway. He could see them, hear them, but there was naught he could do on his own. As he began to feel incredibly powerless, a wave of rage and offended self-pride built up in his heart. He was an Elf Lord, and none shall pretend to control him.  
  
He tried to talk to them, to warn them, he really tried, with all the will he could muster, but none of the words that came out of his mouth were his. "It seems everything is over now."  
  
Aragorn slightly shook his head. "While I am quite sure that if the creature was still alive it was amongst those Orcs, I am afraid there is no way to know for sure whether it has been defeated."  
  
"Unless it starts killing again," Gimli added. "If it does, we will know it has not been defeated."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "That is true, but for the moment it is all we can do."  
  
"What shall we do now, then?" the Dwarf asked.  
  
"We are quite close to Mirkwood," the Elf began. "The men are exhausted, we should give them some rest, and I am sure my people will welcome us with pleasure."  
  
Legolas gasped. It knew who he was. Had they not said it was power that this creature might be seeking? Which meant it most probably knew it could get it through him, an Elf Prince.  
  
This shall not be. He would not allow this creature to reach his father's kingdom. But to his greatest despair, Aragorn nodded.  
  
"They do indeed deserve some rest before going back to Minas Tirith. We will do that, then," the King of Gondor stated before moving towards his men to tell them about their new destination.  
  
Why could they not see that it was not him who was talking? Could they not notice a difference in his behavior? He had to do something, *anything* to let them know. Gathering all his willpower, he made his best to regain the control over his body, fighting the dark and cold presence that had until then pushed him into the background of his mind.  
  
For the shortest moment he felt like he had managed to slightly move his hand – like *he* had actually moved it. The movement itself was certainly imperceptible and it had drained an incredible amount of strength from him, but it was a beginning. If he could do that, he could certainly do more. He just had to find the right way, but for the time being he was quite incapable of going any further.  
  
He suddenly became aware that Gimli was staring at him. A wave of relief rushed through him. Gimli. Gimli would notice the change in him.  
  
The Dwarf slightly tilted his head. "Are you all right, Legolas?"  
  
"I am fine," he heard himself answer dryly. No, he certainly was not fine, not with this parasite controlling his every move. There had to be a way to get rid of it…  
  


*****

  
  
It was such a delectation. Feeling the panic and fear invading its host's mind as he realized how defenseless he was against it… Oh, sure, he had tried to fight back, and it had to admit he had been the most challenging of all its hosts. But it was useless. It was already too late for him.  
  
Bringing along such a great company had been very wise of the Noreans, it thought with irony. Three heroes of a great war, as it discovered while searching through the memories of its host… And amongst them, a King and a Prince, no less… Very wise indeed…  
  
It was not much interested in the Dwarf, and even less in the few soldiers that accompanied them all. During the battle it had instinctively decided on the Elf, but now it knew it could also have chosen a King it almost regretted its choice.  
  
But it did not matter. It was all for the better…  
  
Its gaze found the Noreans again. Maybe it could finish the work… After all, putting an end to their pathetic lives would be doing them a favor. Its gaze rested on the female. It could still remember some moments she had spent with its former host. And now the latter was gone she seemed so pitifully devastated.  
  
It smirked. She would be the first one. But it would have to act cautiously and make sure its new host would not be suspected, otherwise it would ruin its ambitions…  
  


*****

  
  
The company continued its way northward, following the river for another day then crossing it went it began to turn towards northwest. Soon would they reach the South of Mirkwood, and another week would be more than enough to get to Thranduil's kingdom in the north of the forest.  
  
It was no longer required for the two remaining Noreans to keep watch every night, and they welcomed the rest they were given with gladness. They had barely spoken any word since the death of Qeladon, even between the two of them.  
  
As they were all settling and preparing themselves to spend yet another night in the wilderness after crossing the Anduin, Legolas offered to keep watch that night, which did not surprise anyone. After all, the Elf was the one among them that needed the least sleep, and it was obvious that despite all the watches he had already kept he did not seem remotely exhausted.  
  
Soon they all fell asleep, Men, Noreans and Dwarf alike, completely oblivious to the inner battle that had been going on in the Elf's mind all along the last day.  
  
Despite all his efforts, Legolas could not find a way to escape the creature's control. It was as if it had managed to hinder his will and to relegate him to a mere observer. But he would not give up. Never. He had a strong spirit, and he had not used his capacities to their full extent. He would find a way. He had to.  
  
Nevertheless, Legolas felt greatly disappointed that none of two of his closest friends had noticed what had befallen him. He had to admit the creature was a clever pretender, putting on a rather convincing act. But they should have noticed, especially Gimli.  
  
Its annoyance every time the Dwarf approached him to slip some witty remark was evident to Legolas, but it probably did not appear on his face as Gimli kept on insisting. Yet the repartee with which the creature responded was way below the Elf's usual level, and Legolas was all the more convinced Gimli should have noticed. He had seen a few frowns form on the Dwarf's forehead at some of his answers – answers Legolas knew he would not have chosen or phrased that way – but it did not seem to be enough. And every time, he could feel the creature's irritation growing more and more.  
  
That was probably one of the worst part of Legolas' situation. He knew what the creature was preparing. He could almost read its thoughts, all of them mixing with his own. And everything in the creature's mind dealt with domination, killing and death. Its obsession with getting rid of the Noreans was so strong and fanatical…  
  
Maybe if the creature killed again, it would give away its presence… But it would mean he would have to witness the murder of one of them, to see his own hands take the life of one his traveling companions…  
  
No, he would not let that happen.  
  
The brighter part, Legolas observed bitterly, was that he no longer suffered from his sea longing, too preoccupied he was to give it more than a single thought…  
  


*****

  
  
Through the darkness of the night, the creature observed the sleeping forms around the campfire. Now would be the perfect moment to achieve some of its goals… Silently, it drew near the slumbering female Norean, seeming at peace. It could end it right then, right now. It would be so easy, all the others being fast asleep…  
  
It walked nearer, but stopped midway. When everyone would wake up and discover the body, they would know its host's role in this, as he was the only one keeping watch… It would give away not only its presence among the company but also the identity of its host.  
  
Another thought suddenly crossed its mind. It could kill them all, one by one, during their sleep. A smirk lit Legolas' face. Yes, it would do that… And then it would continue its way to Mirkwood alone, pretending the others had all died after an attack of Orcs…  
  
It pushed its host one more step forward, but froze when it felt a hand being laid on his shoulder. As it turned to see who had dared interrupt him, it was welcomed with a warm smile from the King of Gondor. The latter did not seem to know what it had been about to perpetrate, hence it forced its host to smile back.  
  
"I thought you were asleep," it asked almost bitterly.  
  
"I was, but…" Aragorn sighed and shook his head. "No, actually I did not manage to find sleep."  
  
With a tilt of his head, Aragorn invited the Elf to follow him farther from the campfire to a place where they would be able to talk more freely with no risk to wake their companions up. The creature cast a last glance at the sleeping form of the Norean and refrained a sigh of frustration before following the King.  
  
They both moved away from the campfire and settled next to each other. They remained there silent for a few seconds. Actually the creature was rather content with it. It did not wish to speak. It did not wish to have to keep up a conversation. But Aragorn eventually spoke.  
  
"I believe you are glad to go back to Mirkwood."  
  
"Aye, I am," Legolas simply answered, his face expressionless. But an expressionless Elf was not much unusual, at least not unusual enough for Aragorn to notice there was anything wrong.  
  
Oh, yes, it certainly was glad to go to Mirkwood, even if the word "back" did not really apply, the creature thought while preparing its plans. It would probably not be hard to arrange a private conversation between the Elf Prince and the King his father, would it? Then all it would have to do would be to –  
  
"Especially after all those years. You have not been there since the Council of Elrond, have you?"  
  
Legolas just shook his head. Keep the conversation to the bare minimum, the creature thought. It would be the best way to shorten it and keep its presence a secret.  
  
"I have to admit I greatly envy you at the moment."  
  
The Elf cocked an eyebrow at his friend. Anyone able to read Legolas' mind would certainly have found the situation and Aragorn's statement highly ironical.  
  
"Knowing that one is going home can be such a great feeling…" The King of Gondor let go a long sigh. "I have travelled a lot over Middle-earth during my life, but few places have I been able to call home. Not so long ago I would have thought of Rivendell first as such."  
  
Aragorn paused, and Legolas remained silent. If only it could have him go back to sleep…  
  
"No matter how far we get from there, my mind still wanders back to Minas Tirith." He turned to face the Elf at his side. "I miss them so much, Legolas," he eventually said, his eyes full of sorrow. "I miss them so much that it aches. Well I guess that if I still wondered whether my heart and my duties laid in the same place, I have my answer…"  
  
The archer nodded. "Is that what kept you awake?"  
  
"Aye. Partially, at least." Aragorn hesitated. He did not wish to impose his personal concerns on the Elf. Yet… He was an Elf. He would understand. And he knew his friend would soon enquire about what it was all about – actually he would not, or more accurately *it* would not, but Aragorn had no way to know that. Hence he decided to go on. "You know what Arwen did for me when she married me, or more precisely what she gave up for me… I praise her courage, for I know it was no easy choice, and I am proud to have a woman as strong as her as my wife. But sometimes… Sometimes I wonder if I deserved such a sacrifice…"  
  
The creature wondered if it should kill him right then. Obviously it would catch him off guards. It also benefited from its host's memories – the latter knew the King well. It knew his strengths – and his weaknesses…  
  
"I know Arwen does not consider what she did as a sacrifice … Do not misunderstand me, I love her, with all my heart, and I know she loves me as well… Yet… I fear a day will come, a day when the weight of mortality becomes so crushing she might regret her choice, and blame it on me."  
  
No, it would be best to keep them all alive. They might prove to be useful later on. The creature refrained a wince while preparing a suitable answer. It hated all this sentimentalism, but it had no other choice. Soon enough this would all be over…  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas wanted to yell. To tell the world he was there. Despair began to build up in him as he realized how hopeless his situation was.  
  
His anger had renewed when Aragorn began to confide in him freely, the creature barely listening to his words while planning to kill its interlocutor – or the King of Mirkwood. It had brought mental images that Legolas had rather not have – ever. He had pictured himself murdering a close friend or his own father, and the fantasy itself could have been enough to drive him crazy. If it ever was to happen for real, he knew he would not be able to stand it.  
  
But what angered him most at the moment was that Aragorn was confiding in him completely, ignoring that the Elf was not the only one listening and above all not the one answering, and it made Legolas wish he could torture that cursed creature to death. If he ever managed to get rid of it and was able to confront the real face of this creature… Valar, would he make it pay…  
  
He would have wanted to be there to answer his friend during these moments of doubts. First of all, he would never have allowed Aragorn to talk so poorly of himself. And as an Elf himself he had quite an idea what a hard choice deciding to give up one's immortality was. He did not think he himself would ever have the force to do the same, and the very fact that Arwen managed to take that delicate decision meant she would never regret it.  
  
Legolas wished he could tell that to Aragorn. But there would be no way for him to voice his thoughts as long as the creature would be in control…  
  


*****

  
  
The next morning came quickly. While everyone was beginning to pack, Legolas immediately remarked the insistent gaze Crireth laid on him. A gaze almost suspicious, so constant it looked like the man was trying to bore into his mind.  
  
It was as if… Could the Norean have noticed what his closest friends had not? When his attention focused on him, Crireth immediately averted his eyes. Aye, he knew. Maybe having been in contact with the creature before allowed him to see what others could not. Or maybe the Norean had just noticed that whenever the Elf looked at him a hatred that was not there before had appeared in his eyes.  
  
But Legolas could feel the creature had noticed this sustained attention as well, and its thoughts began to flow through his own mind. He knew. He had to get rid of him before he could tell anyone…  
  
"King Elessar," the Norean called, "I am going to the river to fill my water skin," he said, indicating the item.  
  
The King nodded, and as Crireth walked away he was followed by Legolas' gaze. It would be the perfect occasion… Alone with the Norean in the woods, far enough from the campfire…  
  
He looked around, making sure no one saw him, and discreetly followed the man.  
  
Legolas knew what the creature was planning to do, and with all his will he fought against it, but once more he lost that battle, and after a few minutes he found himself catching up with Crireth.  
  
The latter eventually turned round with a start when he heard him coming. "Oh. Legolas," he just said.  
  
The Elf smirked, slowly advancing towards him. No, Legolas thought. He could not do that. He could not let that creature make him do that. He concentrated and approached the part of his mind he had lost the access to since that creature began to parasite him, trying to find a flaw, a breach, anything. But he was quickly pushed away to a darker side.  
  
His hand flew to the Norean's neck and he pinned him to the closest tree. Stop. Stop! Legolas found himself ordering to his own body, in vain. He fought again, trying to prevent his fingers' muscles to tighten around Crireth's throat, but it was no use. He could feel the man's pulse quickening under his palm.  
  
An odd combination of fright and resignation was gleaming in the Norean's eyes when he said: "Legolas, I know you can hear me. Tell Cindra I –"  
  
With a twist of his fingers, he snapped the man's neck, and allowed the lifeless body to fall to the floor. "Sorry, your time is over. Besides, I do not take messages."  
  
No. No, no, no… Legolas stared at the corpse on the ground, and was aware of the satisfied smile appearing on his lips. He slowly backed away from consciousness, sinking into the darkest side of his mind and seeking comfort in its silent quietness, pushing away the memories of the odious crime he had just committed…  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Six...  
  
Ah, do I love cliffies... (grins evilly) And I'm sure you love them as well... (grins even more evilly - if that's possible) Remember when I said you wouldn't be bothered by the OCs too long? See? Two down... (new evil grin)  
Please let me know what you think about this chapter! (I'm sure you remember where the review button is - didn't move since last time)  
  
**Bad news:** I'm moving in a new flat, and I probably won't have an internet connection for a little while (though the "little while" will be as little as I can make it). Which means that I won't be able to post a new chapter before the end of that "little while" (oooooooooh...). Anyway the next chapter will be rather delicate to write so I will need some time.  
**Good news:** I might have no TV for the next 5 months. Which means more free time on my hands to work on this story. (aaaaaaaah!)  
  
Anyway, in the meantime, I'd love to hear your opinion about this story - what are your hopes, your fears? What would you like to see happen? (actually I'd love to have a lot to read when the "little while" is over...)  
  
Next chapter: "Of Suspicion, Distrust and Loneliness" (more Elvish psychological torture to come...)(and I know you all love that, you wicked people...) 


	8. Of Suspicion, Distrust and Loneliness

**A/N:** Because of lack of time, I won't answer the reviews individually, but I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. I'd also like to apologize for the *awfully* long delay before posting this chapter, but I couldn't do otherwise. Anyway, this chapter is longer than the previous ones, so I hope it was worth the wait.  
  
I'm also a bit disappointed no one answered my stupid question, though... Oh well. :-p  
  
Enjoy!  
  
  
  


**Chapter 7  
Of Suspicion, Distrust and Loneliness**

  
  
Aragorn gave a quick look around and nodded with satisfaction. All his men were ready to leave. All they needed to do now was to wait for Crireth to come back.  
  
His attention was suddenly caught by Cindra. She had suddenly stumbled back and supported herself on the nearest tree. Her gaze was faraway and she seemed paler than ever. The last time he had seen her like that was when… This boded no good. This boded no good at all. He hurried to her side and examined her features. She looked as if she could break down any moment.  
  
Definitely no good at all, he thought. "Cindra, is Crireth -" he began.  
  
"He is dead," the young woman stated, spitting the words out rather than actually speaking while her eyes remained firmly set on the ground.  
  
It was what Aragorn had feared. "Where did -"  
  
He was interrupted once more by the Norean, this time by a vague wave of the hand indicating the direction Crireth had followed when leaving the campfire. Never did she look up at him. Either the ground had become incredibly interesting some time along the night or she wanted to avoid his gaze at any price.  
  
As the King of Gondor and under other circumstances, he might have been offended by her attitude. But at the moment it was the least of his concerns. Maybe a couple of Orcs had escaped from the previous day's battle. Maybe the one hosting the creature was amongst them. And maybe it had just attacked Crireth… So many hypotheses… Too many hypotheses…  
  
He gave a new look around, and realized everyone was staring at them, almost holding their breaths. They had probably all heard. He mentally counted the men in front of him, checking everyone - save Crireth - was still there and safe. The three remaining soldiers of Gondor, looking back at him expectantly. Gimli, casting him a questioning look.  
  
Aragorn frowned. "Where is Legolas?"  
  
"I am here," a voice answered behind him.  
  
He turned round and quickly spotted the Elf, his back against a tree and his arms folded across his chest. Aragorn nodded at him. As a Silvan Elf Legolas had the ability to merge into the landscape, managing to make his presence forgotten - and it would not be the first time the archer managed to trick the former Ranger.  
  
Aragorn sighed. He had to know exactly what happened to Crireth in order to know whether the creature was responsible for his death or not. "Let's find Crireth. All of us," he added for the attention of the young Norean since the latter did not seem too keen on moving right then. Understandable attitude though since he was basically asking her to follow him towards the dead body of her father. "I will not allow anyone to remain behind while we ignore what evil might still be lurking around," he continued. "We must stay grouped," he finished with a circular look.  
  
He walked towards the river in the exact same direction Crireth had left earlier. With a quick look over his shoulder he ensured that everyone was following him, even Cindra - though visibly reluctantly.  
  
Aragorn found no hard task in trailing the track the Norean had left. Nonetheless, soon after leaving the campfire he stopped to give a closer examination to the ground, while his companions stopped a few steps behind him, immediately guessing what he was doing and leaving some space around him.  
  
The King of Gondor slightly shook his head. He had no doubt about it - there was a new set of footsteps joining the first one. He was not sure what puzzled him the most though. The fact that it seemed to appear out of nowhere, or the characteristics of the steps - too light to belong to a Man but too heavy to belong to an Elf. The latter most probably, for it questioned the race of the footsteps' owner. Neither a Man nor an Elf, an Orc - too light - or a Dwarf - too long. The only guess Aragorn could make at that point was that they belonged to the creature itself, under its real features and not the ones of an host.  
  
But still…  
  
Without a word he continued his way, while all his companions exchanged quizzical looks - all but Legolas, even if no one noticed - wondering what had stopped him in the first place.  
  
Soon they reached their destination and Aragorn quickly located the Norean's body on the ground. While he knelt near it, he noticed from the corner of his eyes that Cindra was standing as far as she could and looking the very opposite way. From the movement of her shoulders he could tell she was taking would-be relaxing deep breaths.  
  
Aragorn turned his attention back to the corpse next to him. Marks of strangulation, he noted. Not much signs of struggle, he remarked with a frown. As he looked at the footsteps close by, his astonishment increased. Crireth had walked up to there, then turned around. Only and simply turned around. No attempt to flee - which meant no surprise at the sight of the one following him. A familiar face. Someone he would not suspect.  
  
The creature, and a familiar host.  
  
He saw both Gimli and Legolas drawing near him.  
  
"Any conclusions?" the Dwarf asked.  
  
"The creature is still alive."  
  
"What about the identity of the host?" Legolas enquired.  
  
"No longer an Orc - assuming an Orc ever was its host." Aragorn paused. "Not a Man either."  
  
Gimli shuddered. Considering the few people that were likely to be around, that left only himself and Legolas. "Do you mean -"  
  
"Nor a Dwarf or an Elf," Aragorn interrupted, knowing what he had been about to ask.  
  
"A Hobbit?" Gimli offered half-jokingly before shrugging when the King of Gondor stared at him. "Honestly Aragorn, if the host of this creature belongs to none of the races you mentioned, could you please point out to me what kind of host it could be?"  
  
Aragorn let go a sigh of powerlessness and answered in a whisper. "If only I did know, Gimli… If only I did know… As far as I can tell, it could be anywhere now…"  
  
"Or anyone…" Gimli remarked with soundness.  
  
All three of them looked at each other. And then at their companions. It could be just anyone…  
  
Aragorn looked up to see Cindra slowly walking towards them - or more exactly towards her father's body - her gaze shifty and a bit lost.  
  
"Would you like to spend some moments with him before we give him a proper burial?" he spoke to her gently.  
  
The young woman hesitated a few seconds, looking up at him with confusion, before nodding shyly. Aragorn turned towards his friends, and with a tilt of his head invited them to follow him farther enough to give the Norean a last private moment with her father.  
  
Once they had moved away she knelt next to him, her eyes filling with tears as she silently examined his features. She said a few quiet words in her native language - obviously farewell words to her departed father. Her tone was first calm and sad, but was quickly filled with grief and despair as she could not hold her tears any longer.  
  
Once she was done talking, she stayed there, still, a few more seconds before quickly drying her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hands. Then, she seemed to take something from the older Norean, and added a couple of words. She finally got up and, after a last look on her father, turned to join her traveling companions.  
  


*****

  
  
The creature slowly followed everyone back to the campfire after the burial of the Norean, displaying a smirk on its host's lips.  
  
After its little escapade in the forest it had returned to the camp just in time. No one seemed to have noticed its absence, and no one seemed to suspect that its host was the Elf. After all it had been an advantage to not master its host's skills to their full range… It would have completely given it away…  
  
Everything was unfolding absolutely perfectly, it mused.  
  


*****

  
  
Aragorn waited until all his companions gathered in an half-circle in front of him. The gazes of most of them indicated that they knew not what to expect.  
  
"Listen to me carefully," he spoke. "The creature is more than likely still alive. As far as we can tell it could be hosted by anyone. It is somewhere around here, probably very close." He paused. "We can not allow it to reach any of us," he articulated slowly. "Hence I will ask all of you to apply the following instructions to the letter. At any price we must stay grouped. No one shall leave the campfire alone. Always form groups of two individuals minimum. This stands for the night watches as well. That way we will always be able to know if something happened to one or the other. Is that clear?" Aragorn looked at all of them individually. The younger of his men and Cindra both seemed a bit overwhelmed. "Is that clear?" he repeated louder, glaring at them until everyone nodded in agreement. "All right. We will remain here for the moment. There is no way we are going to Mirkwood before taking care of this creature."  
  
With a slight movement of his head the King of Gondor dismissed them. Both Gimli and Legolas stepped towards him while the others retreated farther.  
  
"Nice plan, Aragorn," the Dwarf began. "If two of us leave the campfire and only one comes back, we will know for sure who the host is…"  
  
The irony in his words was not lost on Aragorn. The latter turned to Legolas. The Elf had been oddly silent since the death of Crireth, even when considering he was not the most talkative one. "And what think you, Legolas?"  
  
The Elf looked at him for a few seconds before answering rather blankly: "We must spare as many lives as we can."  
  
Aragorn nodded. They had already lost too many.  
  


*****

  
  
When evening came, it was decided that Aragorn and Gimli would keep watch that night. Nonetheless, even once darkness had invaded the camp illuminated only by the dim light of the fire, few were those who could be found sleeping.  
  
As Aragorn noted, Ethiannor, the highest ranked of his men, was sitting and looking around nervously, as if hoping to spot an enemy in the shadows. Niyan, the youngest one, was lying in his bedroll awake, eyes wide open and staring at the starry sky above. Raighad, the third one, was the only one that seemed to be sleeping. At least if he was, he was not sleeping well - the man kept turning from side to side in his bedroll, agitated by some thought or unpleasant dream.  
  
The knowledge that a creature able to take possession of any of them was more than likely around added to the darkness of the night obviously made all three of them nervous.  
  
As for Cindra, she was clearly only pretending to be sleeping. One paying enough attention would be able to hear stifled sobs coming from the form warmly wrapped in a bedroll. Aragorn was sure she was trying to make her cries the least audible possible, but it was no use. She was still grieving the loss of her father, probably Qeladon's and her friend's as well. From what Aragorn had gathered from Crireth, his two older sons - her brothers - and his wife - her mother - had died at the hands of the creature as well. While she had managed to maintain her composure until then, the accumulation of losses within a couple of weeks combined to exhaustion made grief too strong to bear.  
  
Aragorn's thoughts brought him back to his own family. How would he feel if anything happened to them? Would he even be able to keep on living without them? No, he would not. Arwen, Eldarion, Enariel… He was aching to go back to Minas Tirith, to make sure all of them were faring well.  
  
The King of Gondor gave a new look around. Legolas was standing at some distance, his face unreadable. And next to himself was Gimli, staring intently at a squirrel on the ground, though Aragorn had no idea what could possibly be going on the Dwarf's mind at the sight of the small animal.  
  
Indeed, Gimli thought, such a small being… So innocent looking… That was how the creature operated. Choosing an host that would look innocent to his fellows, one that would not be suspected for they *knew* him personally. Really wicked.  
  
A sudden thought crossed his mind. Could the creature take possession of an animal as well, like this squirrel, allowing it to go unnoticed, and above all unsuspected?   
  
Gimli shook his head. He was really getting a bit too paranoid.  
  


*****

  
  
Everyone greeted the sunrise the next morning with relief. All seemed tired, dark circles under their eyes betraying a sleepless night, and somewhat tensed.  
  
Gimli walked to Legolas, confident that jesting with the Elf would lighten his mood, as it always did. He noticed the archer was repairing some of his arrows, and smiled.  
  
"If I were you, Master Elf, I would not bother with those. Considering your efficiency on a battle ground, you obviously have not figured how to properly use -"  
  
"And if I were you, Master Dwarf," Legolas interrupted harshly, "I would mind my own business."  
  
Gimli searched for the tease in the Elf's eyes. And found none. Only then did the sharp words made their way to his brain. The Dwarf quickly turned round and walked away, commenting that someone got down of a tree on the wrong side that morning.  
  


*****

  
  
As soon as the day began, Aragorn instructed his companions for the search of the creature. They had to find it as soon as possible. They should keep an eye for any clue they could find while all keeping grouped - they had to mind for their safety as well.  
  
For hours, they tensely explored the surroundings. Aragorn's attention was mainly focused on the ground, hoping to find footsteps that would lead him on the track of that creature. But the only ones he found were their own and those of the Orc company they had encountered a couple of days before.  
  
Nothing that could help their search.  
  
When it became obvious they would find naught and when the sun was eventually setting, they decided to stop for the night - again. They spent the end of the evening sitting around the campfire. While both Legolas and Gimli were at his sides, Aragorn examined his other companions again.  
  
He first observed Niyan. The young man was quietly discussing with Cindra on the other side of the fire. Despite his young age, Aragorn had not hesitated a single second when deciding to bring him along. Niyan was very skilled with a sword. A very promising warrior. Discreet, a tad shy maybe, but always considerate - as proof of this trait his kind talking with Cindra. Aragorn suspected the Norean's cries were what actually kept the young man from sleeping the night before, and were the reason of his comforting her now.  
  
Actually Aragorn held high hopes for him. When more experienced he would willingly consider to promote him and entrust him with more responsibilities.  
  
He then turned his attention to Ethiannor. An experienced warrior of Gondor, and now a captain in his personal guard. A man that carried in his flesh the marks of his past battles. Aragorn would entrust his life to him without an afterthought - he had already done so before.  
  
Now Raighad. Not as experienced as Ethiannor, but still a great warrior, always showing the best calm in the worst situations.  
  
That was why he had chosen them when forming the company. They were the most capable of enduring those moments of doubts. Yet they had already shown clear signs of tension since the night before. But who would not when learning that a kind neighbour one has known for years could transform into a killing monster with no warning?  
  
Then he looked at Legolas and Gimli. His brothers in arms. He had shared too much with them to have any single distrustful thought.  
  
"Aragorn?"  
  
The King of Gondor looked down at the Dwarf next to him. "Aye?"  
  
"How look will we remain here?"  
  
Aragorn hesitated. To be honest, he knew not. All he did know was that they had to catch that creature, no matter the time they needed to achieve that.  
  
"As long as is required."  
  
"As long as is required to what? We will soon be short on lembas, and this area is not very appropriate for hunting," the Dwarf remarked with an almost reproachful tone. "Aragorn, if the creature was near us yesterday, it is most probably gone now. Why would it stay around while we are obviously hunting for it?"  
  
"It would not. Unless it wished to reach one of us. It had an opportunity to leave, yet it remained around and killed Crireth. I believe it is still near, somehow managing to escape our searches."  
  
The concept of escaping their searches easily had Gimli think again about the creature possibly being able to possess an animal's mind. However, the mental image of a squirrel trying to strangle the tall man Crireth was was more than enough for him to dismiss the thought. Way too paranoid, indeed…  
  
Nonetheless, the light smile that appeared on his lips at that moment made Aragorn wonder what the Dwarf could have found funny in their lack of success at flushing the creature out.  
  
Aragorn was about to enquire about it - these days he would have loved to have a happy thought shared - when his attention was pulled back to Ethiannor and Raighad. The pair, who had been until then discussing somewhat quietly, had suddenly broken out in a noisy quarrel, standing up to face each other.  
  
The tone quickly worsened and the two men began to push one another violently, menacing both in their attitudes and words, before unsheathing their swords.  
  
Aragorn immediately stood up and rushed towards them. Niyan though had seen the pair as well, and being nearer and having quick reflexes he was already between the two, trying to prevent them from killing one another, by the time Aragorn arrived.  
  
"Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please!"  
  
Suddenly realizing that it was their King talking to them, Ethiannor and Raighad quickly broke apart.  
  
"Have you all lost your mind?" Aragorn asked, his fists clenched. "Now will you please inform me about the reasons of your quarrel?" Seeing both men were intentionally looking away, he added coldly: "I will not leave the issue without addressing it so you had better tell me now."  
  
It was Ethiannor who finally hissed: "Raighad accused me of acting oddly."  
  
"Well it was not meant to be an accusation until you pointed out I had behaved strangely of late," Raighad replied dryly.  
  
"Had you not insinuated that I was -"  
  
"Do you think I am stupid enough to have not noticed how you -"  
  
They both spoke at the same time, the tone rising, and soon it all became an unintelligible flow of speech.  
  
"Enough. ENOUGH!" Aragorn yelled, and the two soldiers stopped at once. All his kingship, conveyed generation after generation through his blood, could be heard in his commanding tone. "I expected better from you than this display of childishness." He alternately glared at them until they looked down sheepishly - such an unusual attitude for warriors of their calibre. "Of course you found one another acted oddly. We are all acting oddly. Nervousness makes us act oddly. And as a matter of fact, in case you have not noticed, we are *all* nervous."  
  
"My Lord," Raighad began, though almost stopped dead in his tracks when Aragorn glared at him for daring answer back. "How are we to know the creature is not already among us? I mean… Send me to an army of Orcs, and I will know how to handle it. But this," he said, pointing at nothing in particular, "is like fighting a ghost. Never sure where it is, or if it has been defeated… You even said yourself it could be anyone. How are we to know… How are we to know it is not *you*?"  
  
Aragorn boiled in anger at the lack of respect. While the situation could explain some lack of reserve, he was certainly not going to forget *that*.  
  
"You can not," he admitted coldly, "though I am confident the creature is still not among us. Remember, when Crireth was killed we were all here, at the campfire." He paused. "It is very important that you do *not* accuse anyone recklessly. We *must* remain united. As for trusting me, you had better do so, *soldiers*," he ended, intentionally leaving their ranks out. "Was that clear enough?"  
  
As the warriors only muttered something along the lines of it being 'very clear', Aragorn insisted. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Aye, my King," both Ethiannor and Raighad eventually answered. Aragorn nodded. "That is much better."  
  
He stared at them one last time. The way people reacted to the most tense situations always held much surprise… Those behaving the most rationally were not always the ones expected, he thought with a last look at Niyan. He should really consider promoting him some day…  
  


*****

  
  
He was sinking. Inexorably, desperately sinking further into the darkness with nothing to hang on to.  
  
How could he ever be able to look himself in the face again? Legolas thought. His own hands had taken the life of an innocent, and he had not been able to prevent it.  
  
After a life several millenniums long, and while he could still be considered young for an Elf, he was meant to have an advanced command over his body and mind - even when sleeping. How strong could this creature possibly be to make him feel so… so weak? So abnormally, painfully weak?  
  
Would this nightmare ever end? Or would it get worse? Could it even get any worse? He had lost every single control over his body to this creature. He knew not where he was, what he was doing, if he was talking and to whom.  
  
For all he knew they were probably still heading for Mirkwood, bringing him, a latent danger, with them. What would happen once they reached his homeland? What would *he* do? Would his friends still be alive by then, or would the creature have had him kill them?  
  
It was more than Legolas could stand. He could not allow himself to feel sorry for himself and despair while his friends could be in mortal danger - because of him, because of his weakness and his incapacity to get rid of this creature. He needed to know what it was doing. What it was having him do. What it was having him do *to his friends*.  
  
His resolve firmly set, he started to struggle his way back to consciousness, unsure which path to follow. It would be tricky. The creature had probably already made itself at home by then. But he would not give up any time soon. If fighting was required, then fight he would.  
  
The path was unclear, but Legolas soon found an opening. He knew it was there. He could feel its sinister presence, and he knew it could feel his. He resolutely marched ahead, ignoring the creature's attempts to push him away. A stronger blow made him loose some ground, but his resolution was unchanged. Creature or no creature, he would get his body - his life - back.  
  
As he went on, the assaults became more and more tough and frequent. Yet he was still progressing, getting closer and closer to his goal, while he could feel the creature getting more and more annoyed with him.  
  
The creature's resistance increased until the struggle became even. He was close, so close… He could almost hear the sounds of a conversation near him. Just one more step… He redoubled his efforts, wrestling with the powerful presence. So close…  
  
As if a string had suddenly broken and released him, all his senses unexpectedly came back to him. Legolas gave a look around, and saw his traveling companions. He had won, he thought with relief. He -  
  
An invisible force violently yanked him back to the darkness. It felt as though after drowning he had finally surfaced but had been suddenly pushed back under the water even before being able to take a single breath - and it was an awfully frustrating feeling.  
  
Nonetheless, he had had the time to take in his surroundings. They had not moved since he had killed Crireth - no, not him he corrected, the creature. He had to keep in mind it had not been him.  
  
And his friends were alive.  
  
He could do it. He knew he could. Once more, he marched forward. Nothing would prevent him from reaching his goal.  
  
_Do not push your luck, Elf._  
  
The words echoed in his mind. Aye, he would push his so-called luck, no matter the obstacles that creature put in front of him. Hence push forward he did.  
  
He was suddenly overcome by a shooting pain, as though he was burning away slowly. He knew it was induced by the creature. Every single effort to get closer to an escape brought a new wave of pain. He continued, ignoring the ache until it became almost unbearable. He would not give up. He could not. Fighting both the creature and the pain, he went on, aware that had he been conscious right then he might well have been agonizing on the floor in pain. But he could not let it win.  
  
As the pain grew absolutely insufferable and as he was beginning to consider withdrawing, he eventually did it. Legolas suddenly recovered his senses while the pain abruptly vanished. He could see. He could hear. He could… He could even move… Nonetheless he could already feel the creature trying to pull him back, the burning sensation raising and growing more and more yet again.  
  
He did not want to loose. He did not want to go back there. He did not want to feel that way again. Feel so weak. So lost. So lonely.  
  
It was probably the only occasion he would have.  
  
Unconsciously he reached out and clutched at Gimli's shoulder next to him, his muscles a bit more strained than they would normally be, as though his friend was a lifeline he should hang on to.  
  
"Gimli," he called almost hopelessly.  
  
Legolas was never given the chance to see his friend's reaction to his move for he was dragged back as the Dwarf turned to look up at him. The words he had been about to say died in his throat. 'Help me'.  
  


*****

  
  
Stupid Elf. How was it going to explain his behavior, now?  
  
Never had one of its former hosts truly rebelled against its presence - not that strongly anyway. Many had tried to get over its control, but none had ever succeeded.  
  
It did not know whether it should curse or praise his determination and courage. The pain should have been enough to have him abandon. On one hand it was impressed by his resistance, however on the other hand he had almost managed to warn the Dwarf, putting it at stake.  
  
Stupid, reckless Elf.   
  
It would not give him another occasion to get past it.  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli watched as Aragorn got up to go talk to his men - he trusted him fully in solving the problem and lessen the tensions - and listened with attention to what he told them from the distance.  
  
He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard a familiar voice call his name. "Gimli."  
  
As he turned and looked up to Legolas, he briefly read in the Elf's eyes something that disappeared immediately. Something he had never found there, even before the worst of battles. Could it have been… fear? Fear of what?  
  
"Aye?" Gimli asked with a frown.  
  
Legolas looked as if he had just remembered his hand was on the Dwarf's shoulder, and immediately withdrew it. "I am sorry," he mumbled, "I… had a cramp."  
  
Gimli stared at him and cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. A cramp? Really? An Elf having a cramp? Well that was unusual for sure. Nonetheless he was not given the time to tease Legolas about it as the latter brusquely rose to his feet and walked towards Aragorn and his men.  
  
Gimli noted absentmindedly that the Elf was moving less gracefully than usual. It took a little while until that notion and a previous information connected in his brain. And then various other observations rose as well. Legolas' late behavior was beginning to look incredibly strange to him. While he was reluctant to be suspicious about his friend, especially under circumstances that did not allow anyone to suspect another without due consideration - he still had Aragorn's speech to his men in mind - but there were facts.  
  
First, Aragorn said the steps of the one who killed Crireth were too deep to be the ones of an Elf. But now Gimli saw the way Legolas was moving… It could well be his…  
  
Then there was his coldness. Had it been the only clue, Gimli would have dismissed it. The Elf sometimes had his moods. But it was not the only one.  
  
All the more, for having traveled for years with the Silvan Elf, Gimli knew the latter could not live without keeping a contact with nature. Sometimes the slightest touch on the bark of a tree while walking could be enough. But now he thought about it, when was the last time he had seen his friend anywhere near a tree? Certainly not since Crireth's death, and as far as he could remember, not since their last encounter with Orcs…  
  
The Orcs.  
  
Gimli was no young lad. He could put one and one together - it had all begun then.  
  
The creature had found an host among them. And it was Legolas…  
  
Gimli suddenly remembered the tension in the hand on his shoulder. The fear in the Elf's eyes. The desperation in his tone that the Dwarf was noting only then. He had found a way past the creature to communicate with him. And he was in pain…  
  
He had to do something, Gimli thought firmly.  
  
He was not given the occasion to push his thoughts forward as Aragorn called him.  
  
"Gimli, we need wood for the campfire. Would you mind taking care of that?" As the Dwarf nodded, Aragorn turned to the Elf. "Legolas, could you go with -"  
  
Cindra interrupted the King. "I will go with him," she stated with insistence.  
  
Aragorn looked at her during a few seconds and finally nodded. "All right," he said and then turned back to his men.  
  
Gimli and Cindra exchanged a long look before walking together towards the woods.  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Seven...  
  
I hope you liked this chapter, it took me some time to try to make it sound right (I hope it did). I also took time to think about the upcoming chapters, so hopefully the delay should be shorter.  
Anyway, I know it's been a while, but I hope you can still figure out where the review button is... ;-) I'd like to hear a bit about what you guys think before writing too much of chapter 8.  
  
**Bad news:** I announced in the previous chapter that I might have no TV for the next 5 months, which meant more free time to work on this story. Well the thing is, I *do* have TV... (But the programs are crap these days anyway...)  
  
Next chapter: "The Plan of a Friend" (rather obvious title, yay me!)  



	9. The Plan of a Friend

**A/N:** And one new chapter, one!! And a long one, aren't you all lucky blokes! At some point I even considered splitting it in two and post the parts seperately, but I changed my mind, and I'm sure you'll be happy to learn that everything I've written so far is featured in this chapter.  
  
Here are also answers to my great, great reviewers!  
  
**Alklachion**: Stop watching crappy TV? And how am I supposed to survive without it? Oh, right, there's still internet and fanfictions... *g* Well, I kinda stopped watching crappy TV lately... Actually I even managed to survive whole evenings without switching the TV on at all... To make sure I wouldn't get distracted, I even went to the park to write - though pigeons are quite distracting too. Wrote three whole pages of this chapter there. Also got a sunburn. And it's all your fault if I'm in horrible pain now :-p  
About the Animorphs series, I don't think I've ever heard about it, though the name sounds strangely familiar. So any similarities were *not* intended! (but I'm glad you find my story better! *blushes*)  
As for Cindra knowing about it or not... You'll find out soon... Very soon... *eg*  
  
**eck**: Well, I think you reviewed every single chapter... And it's really great to have you around. Actually I always look forward to your comments, I really appreciate them. So keep the reviews coming! *wink* Oh and thanks for answering my question about 'OC', that's what I thought but I wanted to make sure... lol  
  
**Blue Topaz** How I could leave it there? Well, because I'm eeeeeeeevil! Bwaaahaaahaaa!!!! Besides, did I update soon enough for you? I did my best anyway.  
  
And also thanks to those who added me to their favorites! Even if some of those didn't review (tsk tsk... :-D), it really means a lot to me.  
  
My biggest thanks though will go to **Candice** who beta'd this chapter and she did a really amazing job. I'm sure that through this chapter you'll enjoy her work as much as I did.  
  
  
Ok, enough babbling... Here is the new chapter!  
  
One last thing though: the few sentences in Elvish you will find in this story are very approximative, and at best literal translations. So if anyone around knows Elvish grammar (I'm sure a lot do, you've certainly *all* chosen Elvish as foreign language in high school... *g*), I'd be glad if you could help and correct the mistakes... Thank you!  
  
  


**Chapter 8  
The Plan of a Friend**

  
Gimli was fuming while harshly picking up dead wood. How could he have not noticed it before? Days had passed, days during which the being he considered his best friend had been acting oddly and he had not noticed? Aragorn had his men to deal with, it might have been why the King had not remarked the strangeness of the Elf's behavior. But *he*, Gimli thought, should have noticed.  
  
The Dwarf cursed himself. He had been such an idiot.  
  
And what of the Elf's lack of wit and strange answers? He had dismissed them, one after the other, while he knew they were not usual for Legolas.   
  
When the cramp was mentioned, he should have understood immediately. Firstly, Elves could not have cramps - or if they could they would certainly not let a Dwarf know about it. And secondly - well, seriously, a cramp? Gimli had fought countless battles at Legolas' side and never had he heard him complain about his well being, even when wounded. A cramp… Did the creature think that would have fooled him? Although he had to admit that he had been foolish enough not to have understood right then.  
  
And now, all he could think of was the fear in those Elven eyes and despair in his tone. He had to find a way to -  
  
"Gimli?"  
  
Gimli glared at Cindra, annoyed that she had interrupted his thoughts. Why had she volunteered to accompany him anyway? He would have preferred to go with Legolas, so that he could test his thoughts before wrongly accusing the Elf.  
  
"Aye?" he eventually said dryly.  
  
"You and Legolas are close friends, is that correct?"  
  
Every time that kind of question was raised, Gimli went into automatic mode and recited without really thinking: "Me? Befriend an Elf? Ah! This is the craziest thing I have ever heard! You must really come from a faraway land to not know that Dwarves and Elves have always held grudges against each other. Legolas and I are no exception to the rule. I have barely managed to stand his presence along the journey."  
  
Cindra's skeptical gaze and raised eyebrow stated that he had not fooled her. "Whatever you say, Master Dwarf…" She resumed picking up the wood in silence.  
  
He concluded that even a complete stranger could figure out that they were friends. What was the point of their verbal games? Gimli thought, a tad vexed. He felt, however, that the young woman had not just been trying to find out whether they were friends or not.  
  
"Is there a particular reason why you asked?" he inquired, his tone as casual as possible.  
  
Cindra turned to him, hesitant but looking as if she had hoped he would ask. "Have you noted… something unusual in his behavior of late?"  
  
Gimli blinked. So she had noticed as well. Relieved that he had not made it all up, the Dwarf was no less annoyed that a stranger had seen what he had almost failed to notice. "Why would I have?" he asked cautiously.   
  
"Well… I think… Maybe the creature…" she stammered, unsettled by the fact he did not confirm anything.  
  
"You think the creature has possessed him?" he finished for her.  
  
"Aye. So…" she paused, "Have you noticed something? You would have noticed if he behaved strangely, correct?"  
  
Gimli smiled bitterly. "Aye, I would have. And no, I did not notice anything unusual."  
  
Cindra looked disappointed. "But… Well, it seemed…"  
  
Gimli shook his head. "You are mistaken. Had you known Elves better you would have never made that accusation. Firstly, while I hate having to admit it, they have stronger minds than any other race on Middle-earth. Legolas would have never been fooled by this creature." While saying those words, Gimli thought completely otherwise. How in Aulë's name had Legolas been tricked? "Secondly, Elves have great senses. And at this moment, while we have moved away from the campfire, we are still within Elven earshot."  
  
The colour suddenly drained from Cindra's face as the few wood sticks she was holding escaped her hands and fell to the ground. She turned round to look at the campfire and there she saw him, standing casually but looking at them from the corner of his eyes - those eyes, the same hatred that he had shown her during the last couple of days.  
  
"Oh Eru…" the young woman murmured as she realised her mistake.  
  
Indeed, Gimli thought. While Cindra had already revealed her knowledge, there was no point in letting the creature know *he* knew as well. Better to let it think the opposite, in fact. "Do not worry. There is nothing to fear. The creature is not among us." He paused. The Norean was still very pale. "Now come, walk with me further into the forest, where the wood is more abundant."  
  
Aye, farther, he thought. Someplace where Legolas would not be able to hear them…  
  


*****

  
  
The creature kept its eyes on the two silhouettes walking deeper into the wood.  
  
The Dwarf was so stupid. He pretended to be its host's best friend… It smiled. If even the dwarf had not noticed, it was safe. The Norean was still a problem though. Not for long, it thought. It would take care of her soon before she had a chance to arouse too much suspicion from the others.  
  
It was tired of staying here, doing nothing but pretending to seek 'the creature' as they were calling it. Having to comply with its former human host's needs had considerably drained patience from it but having to wait was worst than anything.  
  
Maybe it could speed up things a little…  
  
It walked towards the King of Gondor, preparing arguments that its host could have likely come up with.  
  
"Why not continue our way north?" it finally said. "We are too few to cover the area. The Elves of Mirkwood could give us precious help."  
  
"I know," Aragorn admitted, unable to resign himself to give up the hunt. He hesitated a few seconds before sighing. "I'll give us two more days. If we have found naught during that delay, then we will on to Mirkwood."  
  
Aragorn turned round, hence he did not see Legolas clench his fists impatiently behind him.  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli glanced back. A few more yards, he thought. Better safe than sorry.  
  
He could not help thinking about his friend's distress, considering himself responsible for it - maybe not responsible for it but at least responsible for its possible duration.  
  
A sudden thought occurred to him. Legolas was an Elf Lord. The son of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood. An immortal Prince of one of the last Elvish communities on Middle-earth. The fact that Legolas neglected to acknowledge his title made it easy for one to forget.   
  
Gimli then remembered it was Legolas who had first suggested going to Mirkwood, a few days before. It was after the Orcs attack, hence it meant it was the creature's suggestion.  
  
It wanted to go to Mirkwood and use its host's identity to its advantage.  
  
He had to prevent that, Gimli thought. While for a long time he had not held the Mirkwood Elves very high in his esteem, he did not wish that to anyone. And his motivation redoubled if he added the fact that it was his best friend that was the main protagonist in this affair.  
  
There was one way he could think of. It could be dangerous but he did not care putting his own life at stake if he could save his friend. The main problem was that he needed someone else to help him achieve his goal. Someone that would not doubt his conviction in thinking that Legolas was the creature's host.  
  
He could not ask that of Aragorn, he was King of Gondor and it was wiser to keep him as far from the creature as possible. There was no need to give it another pportunity to reach someone powerful.  
  
His gaze found Cindra, picking up dead wood and seeming deep in thought. She already knew about the creature. But she was young and inexperienced, it would put her into a risky position.  
  
Yet it could work. Better than with anyone else, actually, at least for the first part of his plan… The second one would be a different matter…  
  
"Cindra?" the Dwarf began.  
  
The Norean looked back at him, a tad surprised to hear him call to her.  
  
"It is all right, we are far enough now to be able to talk freely." Seeing she was a bit puzzled, he added: "I did notice Legolas' strange behavior."  
  
"Oh," she just said after a few seconds, looking relieved.  
  
"I have a plan." he said.  
  
"You have a plan…" she repeated slowly, waiting for him to go on.  
  
"And I need your help," confessed the Dwarf.  
  
"My help? My help to do what?"  
  
Gimli chose his words carefully. "I need to get Legolas away from the camp. Away from everyone else. Once isolated I should be able to detain him while the creature can not switch to someone else."  
  
Cindra's eyes narrowed. "Once isolated, say you… So you want me to… to play the bait?"  
  
"I know this will put you into a dangerous situation but you are already in danger. The creature knows you suspect Legolas, so it will try to get rid of you. Probably like it did with your father."  
  
The young woman nodded. She knew he was right. "But, wait… You want to take him to where the creature cannot switch to someone else. But that will not apply to you or I. We will be close, very close…"  
  
"I have reasons to believe it will not. It is power it seeks and none of us can bring it any. Plus if we manage to take it by surprise… It will not be given the chance…" He paused. "Once that is done, we will tell the others but in the meantime they must not know. As you know now anything said near the campfire could potentially be heard by the creature. So is it a deal?"  
  
"A deal? What deal?" asked Cindra.  
  
"You bring Legolas away from the campfire. I follow you discreetly and tie him up," explained Gimli.  
  
"I… I am not sure. I need to think about it," stammered Cindra.  
  
Gimli gazed at her earnestly. Being hesitant was understandable but time was precious. He sighed, "All right. Do not be long in your decision, time is short," he warned while beginning to walk back to the campfire.  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas drowned farther and farther from the painful world outside. All he wished was to get away from it. No more pain. No more turmoil. No more fights. No more deaths. No more grief. He was tired, so tired of all that…  
  
Unconsciously he was led to a warm and quiet place. A place the creature did not seem to have access to. A place that had not been tainted by the creature and the chaos it generated.  
  
He remained there a little while, simply enjoying the bliss of feeling at peace. After a moment though, a silhouette appeared next to him. Nothing more than an indistinct cloud at first but it slowly became an outline and finally a corporeal body.  
  
It was an Elf Lady, her stance noble, her eyes full of love and affection, her long golden hair waving faintly around her visage.  
  
Valar, he had almost forgotten how beautiful she was…  
  
"_Naneth…_" he whispered, his voice catching in his throat under the weight of emotion. (A/N: "_Mother…_")  
  
A bright smile lit her face at his words.  
  
A part of him knew it was not real. Knew *she* was not real. It could not be, she had sailed into the West centuries before… Those were all memories… Pleasant ones but still no more than memories… Yet all he wanted to do was ignore that logical part of him.  
  
The last straw was given when she held out a pale white hand towards him. "_Tolo, nín tithen pen…_" (A/N: "_Come, my little one…_")  
  
He allowed her to take his hand in hers and meekly followed her.  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli did not sleep very well that night. The next day was not much better. Like the previous one they spent it searching for the creature and he could feel that even Aragorn was beginning to loose hope. He wished he could tell his friend what he knew, tell him that the creature was already among them and that all this was unnecessary. But he could not if he wanted his plan to have a chance to succeed.  
  
And as for his plan, he wondered why it was taking the Norean so long to take her decision. Could she not see the urgency of the situation? He kept casting enquiring looks at her, hoping for a nod, a sign, anything that would indicate an agreement. But every time she met his gaze she would avert her eyes in a refusal to answer.  
  
He had noted that all day she had carefully avoided getting close to Legolas or him, preferring the company of the other men. It was probably better that way anyway, so as not to wake the creature's suspicion about him.  
  
As the end of the afternoon came, he tried once more but his look was again ignored by the young woman. Stifling an annoyed grumble, Gimli settled next to the soon to be prepared fire.  
  
If she did not hurry, the creature would have more than enough time to kill them all slowly, one by one before she even made her decision.  
  


*****

  
  
Cindra was getting more and more tense. And Gimli's insistent looks were not helping. If only it was the only thing, she might not have minded as much. But there were also Legolas' hateful looks, constantly reminding her of her precarious situation.  
  
She felt kind of trapped between those two's gazes, she tried to avoid them as far as possible. She preferred to stay around King Elessar's men but even those were becoming annoying. Two of them spoke coldly to anyone and most of the time they just ignored her. Only Niyan was somewhat courteous but even he was beginning to be affected by the general unrest.  
  
A break. She needed a break. If only she could have a few minutes alone to think everything over and make her decision…  
  


*****

  
  
This was leading them nowhere. Aragorn was beginning to consider bringing the two day delay down to one. If they still had not found anything by the end of the day, it meant that the creature was likely far away and that they were too late. But for his own peace of mind he needed to keep searching, to make sure he had done everything he could before withdrawing.  
  
He could feel the tension growing among his traveling companions. Even Gimli and Legolas had begun to behave awkwardly around each other, which he did not consider as a good sign.  
  
Aye. The next day they would go to Mirkwood and seek the Silvan Elves' help.  
  
As he turned to tell the good news to Legolas - he was sure the Elf would be glad to learn he had eventually taken his advice - Aragorn was surprised to see Cindra walking toward him.  
  
"King Elessar? Could I please have a word with you?" she asked.  
  
"Of course," Aragorn replied.  
  
"I have a request. I… I would like to get away from the campfire for a few minutes. Alone," she added.  
  
Aragorn stared at her, half amused and half disbelieving. "You what?"  
  
"I need to be alone a little while. Everyone is getting so tense, and… And I would like a few minutes to myself to clear my thoughts," rephrased Cindra.  
  
Aragorn firmly shook his head. "No. It would be too dangerous."  
  
"I… I will not be long. And I will not go far," the young woman insisted.  
  
"Cindra, you must understand that moving away from the campfire alone would be too risky. And not just because of the creature. I thought you would have realized that considering what happened the last time you did so."  
  
"I know, but -" started Cindra.  
  
"I will go with her, Aragorn." Legolas offered with what looked like a warm smile to the King of Gondor. On the contrary, that smile looked terribly ironic to the paling Norean, though it worsened when the Elf gently patted her shoulder.  
  
"Alright." Aragorn eventually said with a nod, assuming that the look in the young woman's eyes was nothing more than disappointment. She might not be going to be alone but Legolas was the most discreet of them all. Plus he knew she would be safe with the Elf.  
  
As the pair moved away, Aragorn made a mental note to tell Legolas about going to Mirkwood the next day later. Preoccupied by other thoughts, he did not see Cindra almost frantically looking round for Gimli and giving the slightest nod to him when she finally found him. Nor did he see Gimli nodding back.  
  


*****

Where was a Dwarf when one was needed? Cindra wondered nervously. How long could it possibly take him to catch up with them? They had not hurried. On the contrary, they had dawdled. So where was he? The creature could attack her at any moment. Actually she was surprised it had not already done so.  
  
If that Dwarf did not arrive soon, she would… Well, she would not do anything, since technically she might be dead but she really wished she could -  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
Cindra almost jumped when hearing the Elf's voice. "Aye, I am alright." she lied.  
  
"You can go further if you wish. I will watch you from here," assured the Elf.  
  
Oh no, she was certainly not going to go further from him. He had that bow, going further was the best way to give him an opportunity to shoot her. Better stay close. Well, he had those twin knives as well… Hmm… She had to find a compromise between close and far. "No, it is fine." she answered.  
  
She resumed her casual walk, always making sure to keep an eye on Legolas. A rather difficult task since the Elf seemed to prefer following her. She was sure her gait was extremely abnormal.  
  
"What are you afraid of?" the voice behind her asked.  
  
She turned round to face him. "Me? Nothing."  
  
"Your hands are shaking…" Legolas pointed out.  
  
Cindra looked down at her agitated hands, quickly she hid them behind her back.  
  
"Looks like it is me you are afraid of…" the Elf suggested with something that looked like a satisfied smile. He took a few arrogant steps forward. "Really, why, I wonder…"  
  
The Norean simultaneously took steps backward, breathing heavily. She had to keep a distance between them.  
  
A smirk appeared on Legolas' lips. "It is useless. You know it. Make things easier for me and I will make your death less painful than your father's." Seeing she kept moving back, he shook his head. "Tsk tsk… All right, as you wish… Slow and painful then…" he concluded, unsheathing one of his long knives.  
  
As he weighed his weapon in his hand, Cindra drew her own dagger and held it out in front of her menacingly - at least she hoped it looked menacing, though she feared her clumsy handling might betray her inexperience. Which it did.  
  
"Ha," Legolas snorted, "do you really think you will be any match for me? It is obvious you have never used that weapon."  
  
He took one more step forward but suddenly froze, a frown on his forehead. It seemed the Norean was alternately looking at him and at something behind him. What the -  
  
The crack of a twig.  
  
He only had the time to do an half turn but it was already too late as the full weight of a Dwarf knocked him down to the ground, making him loose his grip on his knife in the process.  
  


*****

  
  
He was quiet. At peace, at last. Legolas turned to his mother, and she smiled at him he smiled back. Her presence made him feel completely safe.  
  
He did not know how much time he had already spent there, all he wished was that it would last forever.  
  
His wish was not granted, though.  
  
As he looked once more at his mother, everything unexpectedly faded around him, turning into a swirling and dissonant chaos until there was nothing left of it.  
  
Legolas was suddenly painfully aware of his face violently hitting the ground. Of his hands being dragged behind his back. Of someone's weight upon him as a familiar voice whispering at his ear.  
  
"I am sorry Legolas but we do not really have the choice."  
  
Gimli. Why was Gimli doing that? Why had he dragged him away from his peacefulness? He had the right to be at rest, why denying him his respite?  
  
All the late events suddenly came back flashing to him. The creature, and all the suffering that came with it.  
  
But Gimli was there and he knew - he had to know, why else would he be trying to hold him still? A wave of relief washed through him. It was going to be over soon.  
  
He could not see exactly what was going on but his other senses were almost fully alert. He could feel that Gimli was holding his hands behind his back and twisting rope around his wrists. All he wished was to let him do that but it was probably not to the creature's liking as it was making his body try struggle free.  
  
He felt another pair of hands attempting to hold his ankles down. Aragorn maybe? No, the grip was too weak. As if to attest his guesses, one of his legs broke free and his foot connected with something - or someone as the cry of hurt he heard suggested.  
  
Had he been able to turn around, he would have seen Cindra taking one step back, holding her bleeding nose.  
  
"What are you doing? Hold his feet!" Gimli's voice ordered.  
  
"Well believe it or not, I am trying!" snapped Cindra.  
  
Cindra. Cindra?? Why was she the one there with Gimli? Legolas did not have the opportunity to wonder any longer since he was once again pulled into the darkness.   
  


*****

  
  
Legolas slowly came back to his senses. He was quick to notice he was still not in control but he was fully conscious. Which he considered as a good thing - taking refuge in memories of his mother was not a solution. When Gimli 'attacked' him, the creature had probably lost some of its control on him, its full attention being required to fight free. Fortunately, Legolas thought, it did not succeed.  
  
He was sitting on the ground, his back against the bark of a tree with both his hands and feet tied tightly. If the rope cutting into his wrists' skin and the unpleasant flow of half dried blood down his palm was any indication, the creature may have been trying to free itself for a good while - and was still trying from what he could tell.  
  
He suddenly realised there were people around as he heard two familiar voices. He focused on them. Gimli and Cindra. It probably meant not much time had gone by since the 'attack'. The two of them seemed to be in the middle of a heated argument. Why was Cindra pacing nervously? And Gimli glaring at her impatiently?  
  
"This is not what we agreed on, Gimli." the young woman stated, pointing an almost menacing finger at the Dwarf.  
  
"We did not agree on anything, remember? You wanted to 'think about it'." Gimli pointed out.  
  
"This was *not* part of the plan you told me about!" Cindra exclaimed.  
  
"This is part of the plan I am telling you about *now*," retorted Gimli.  
  
A plan? What plan? Legolas wondered.  
  
The Norean let go an exasperated sigh. "This is nonsense…"  
  
"It needs to be done, be it by me or someone else," reasoned Gimli.  
  
"We should stick to the initial plan, and tell the others. I am going to warn King Elessar."  
  
As she moved back towards the campfire, Gimli grabbed her arm to stop her. "He will not approve."  
  
"Of course he will not approve. And I do not approve either. Now let go of my arm."  
  
What were they talking about? Legolas wondered. Something Aragorn would not approve was most likely a bad idea. Then why was Gimli insisting so much? It was obviously important to him, as he did not release Cindra's arm.  
  
"I need someone to be there while I do it."  
  
"You… You do not even know how to do that. Or even if it is possible," Cindra pointed out.  
  
"I will find a way," Gimli said determinedly, finally freeing the Norean's arm.  
  
She hesitated. "Look, it is -"  
  
"Cindra, you know I will do it whether you stay or not. And you also know it might go wrong if you do not."  
  
The young woman sighed again, slightly shaking her head. "This is suicidal."  
  
Suicidal? Now Legolas wished he could jump out of his body and shake them both until one told him what it was all about. And he would do no more than that to them, only thanks to his Elven patience.  
  
"Look at me in the eyes and tell me you never considered doing something similar when it was *your* friend that was in his position."   
  
Cindra managed to stand the Dwarf's gaze a few seconds before looking down. "The situation was different," she muttered, betraying the fact that the answer would have been positive.  
  
"Different? How much different, do tell me! Ederis was your friend and Legolas is mine, I do not see any difference here!" Gimli exclaimed angrily.  
  
"It was *different*," the young woman insisted, giving the Dwarf a long look.  
  
"Honestly Cindra, I do not understand how it could possibly -," Gimli began until he eventually got it. "Oh." The two of them had been more than just friends. But what Crireth said… "Your father did not know, did he?" Gimli assumed.  
  
Cindra slightly shook her head.  
  
Gimli let go a long sigh. "All right. So it was a bit different. But you certainly understand what I am trying to do and why I am doing it."  
  
By Elbereth, if the Dwarf did not come clean soon Legolas was going to torture him badly. If he could, that is - and truth was he could not.  
  
"I do understand. Actually, I kept pondering over it during the first days of our journey, until he…" Her voiced trailed off and she swallowed uneasilyb but she needed not to finish her sentence for Gimli to understand.  
  
"Then why would you not help me do it?" questioned Gimli.  
  
"Because I had more time than you to think about it. This would be a very noble act, Gimli, but also a very egotistical one," Cindra responded.  
  
All right. They knew he was conscious and they were deliberately playing with his nerves, Legolas was sure of it.  
  
"Egotistical, really?" Gimli snorted. "Trying to pull someone out of a painful situation? And how so?"  
  
Cindra sighed for the umpteenth time. Even Legolas, from his hindered position, could feel the stress between the two of them.  
  
"Do you think he will enjoy being in your position more than you do? Especially since he would know in vivid details what you would be going through? If he cares for you half as much as you care for him, I do not think so." reasoned Cindra.  
  
Had Legolas been his normal self, he would have frowned. What did she mean exactly by him being in Gimli's position? And what about the vivid de -… Oh no. Oh Eru no. Gimli wanted to have the creature switch to him. If that was the 'plan' they had been talking about since the beginning, then Legolas thoroughly hated it. While he would have gladly welcomed any way to get rid of this creature, cursing Gimli with it was not an option. Being in pain was one thing but having one's best friend in pain was another, and if he had a say in it he preferred the first to the latter.  
  
Gimli was not seriously considering doing this, was he?  
  
"I did not think about that," the Dwarf confessed. "But that does not change anything."  
  
So he was…  
  
"Gimli, this will only move your grief from your shoulders to Legolas'. And I am sure you do not want that," pleaded Cindra.  
  
Bright girl, Legolas thought. Keep trying to convince Gimli to change his mind. As stubborn as the Dwarf can be, she may well succeed, if the slight flinch in the Dwarf's eyes was any indication.  
  
"There are other considerations to take into account," reveled Gimli.  
  
No. There were no other considerations, he had better not do it if he did not wish to experience the wrath of an Elf.  
  
"What other considerations?" questioned Cindra.  
  
"Legolas is an Elf Lord. He is immortal and has a lot of influence, through him the creature is powerful. We cannot leave the situation as is, it is too dangerous. I, on the contrary, am a mere mortal Dwarf from the Lonely Mountain. I am nothing, I would be of no use to the creature."  
  
Nothing? He dared say he was nothing? He was son of Glóin, one of the thirteen Dwarves of the Quest of Erebor. He was one of the Nine Walkers, a warrior of great valor that fought bravely in the War of the Ring. And above all the Dwarf was his friend. Yet he dared say he was nothing?? Well he certainly was not nothing to him.  
  
He would not let him do that. He could not.  
  
"I need someone to be there during the process," Gimli continued. "First to tie me up before beginning, so that once the creature has switched to me I will not be any danger. Then to make sure everything worked correctly. And eventually, free the one that is not possessed - be it Legolas or myself." He paused. "What do you say, Cindra? Do you agree or not?" he finished, holding out the last of his rope to her.  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Eight...  
  
As I previously said, I love cliffies... And again, if anyone wonders why it's because I'm E.V.I.L.  
Besides, I don't know how long it will take me to write the next chapter. I really enjoy writing this story, and while I have several chapters already planned in mind, I have other fanfictions projects I'd like to work on (a post-Buffy fanfic (BtVS is over... *snifle*) as well as a Gimli romance (yes, you read well, a GIMLI romance) if anyone wishes to know)(a Pippin angst as well, now I think about it...). My co-writer has been harrassing me for weeks now, and since she's evil too and wouldn't mind tearing my limbs apart if I delayed too much, I think I should consider giving those projects some attention as well.  
So if it takes time before seeing a new chapter, don't worry, I have *not* forgotten about this story!  
  
Anyway, you're still more than welcome to review!   
  
**Next chapter**: "_Freedom at last... or not?_" (title might sound a bit stupid right now, but should sound (I hope) a bit less stupid once the chapter is posted and read, you'll see...) 


	10. Freedom at last or not?

**A/N:** A new chapter at last! And a long one again at that! It seems that as this story goes by every chapter gets longer than the previous one! Anyway, answer to reviews first.  
  
**eck**: See, I told you that question you asked several chapters ago would be answered later... Glad you liked the part with Legolas' mother, I enjoyed writing it too. Keep that part in mind, it might be useful later... (nothing I write is ever written innocentely, every detail counts as you will find out at the end of this chapter *eg*) As for Gimli's technique to free Legolas from the creature, you'll have to read to find out!  
  
**Alklachion**: But I soooooo like to write evil cliffies!! And I soooooo like to annoy people with them! *eg* Anyway the cliffy in this chapter is a bit less evil... well it depends on the point of vue but... you'll soon find out...  
  
**the wannabe dwarf**: Welcome! Here, have a seat among the regulars, it's nice to see a new face every now and then! Advertise and tell your friends about this story if you like it! *g* As for the Gimli romance, I didn't have the time to work much on it, you see, I had to read the new Harry Potter book, and to write this chapter, and... oh well. However a few pages are already written but I want to write some more and put more thought into it before posting anything.  
  
I would like to thank **Candice** again because she did an awesome job once more by beta reading this chapter. Hopefully my english will improve thanks to her ;-)  
  
**A/N:** It could be useful to read again the end of the previous chapter since this one starts exactly where the other ended.  


**Chapter 9  
Freedom at last... or not?**

  
  
"What do you say, Cindra? Do you agree or not?" Gimli finished, holding out the last of his rope to her.  
  
Cindra looked at him motionless for what felt like an eternity to the Dwarf.  
  
The young woman eventually took the rope from his hands with a sigh. "I am going to regret this…"  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli stared at the expressionless Elf in front of him. They were now both tied, sitting on the ground and facing each other, with their legs side to side.  
  
He would make this creature leave his friend whether it wanted to or not. He still did not know how to proceed and nothing had happened since they had begun, but he would find a way. Gimli was determined to save his friend.  
  
The Elf was staring back at him, his eyes empty.  
  
Many people, thinking Elves to be cold and distant beings, might not find this observation abnormal. Yet someone who knew better, like Gimli - though he would probably never admit it openly - would be able to tell something was wrong.  
  
Elves held the weight of centuries in their eyes. A hint of patience and calm for they were immortal. Most, especially Silvan Elves, showed curiosity and amusement for everything that surrounded them.  
  
For one who knew them well, they were quite joyful beings.  
  
"Gimli?" he heard Cindra ask quietly.  
  
The Dwarf did not acknowledge that he had heard her and kept concentrating on the Elf's eyes. Was Legolas able to see and hear him? Was he conscious of what was happening? He had managed to escape the creatures hold once and almost succeeded in warning the Dwarf; would he be able to do it again? Did he know what the Dwarf was trying to do? Would he help him by fighting from the inside?  
  
"Gimli, it does not seem like this is going to - "  
  
Gimli impatiently hushed her, his eyes never leaving the Elf's. There had to be a way…  
  
The young woman's silence did not last long. "It will be night soon, maybe we should - "  
  
"Listen to me carefully," Gimli interrupted. "I will not move or withdraw until I can tell for sure that creature has left the one sitting in front of me."  
  
Cindra stood still and remained silent this time. She was not sure whether his words were intended for her, the creature or Legolas. Since the Dwarf was still looking at the Elf and she knew it would be useless to try talk him into abandoning.  
  


*****

  
  
Aragorn looked at the sun skimming the skyline. Legolas and Cindra had been gone for quite a while now. Something was wrong. The Norean had specifically said she would not be long and he knew the Elf would not allow her to linger.  
  
The King of Gondor jumped to his feet. "Ethiannor, Raighad, Niyan, Gimli," he called, "follow me, we - " He suddenly stopped as he observed the campfire. Gimli was not there.  
  
When exactly had the Dwarf left the campfire? he wondered. He had not noticed his leaving, which meant it had been a very discreet and stealthy one.  
  
"Have any of you seen Gimli during the last hour?" Aragorn questioned his men.  
  
The only answers he got were confused whispers and shaking heads.  
  
Gimli had followed Legolas and Cindra, Aragorn was now sure of it. And if the Dwarf had not warned him, it could only be because of one of two possibilities. Either Gimli was possessed by the creature or he knew one of the pair was and wanted to deal with it alone. In either case, he had better find all three of them quickly.  
  
He turned towards his men again. "Come with me, we have to find - " He stopped once more, his attention caught by a rumble in the woods. The kind of rumble he was all too familiar with.  
  
Oh no, he thought reaching for his sword, not now…  
  


*****

  
  
The creature kept looking at the Dwarf sitting in front of its host. He seemed determined to fulfill his plan. It had no desire whatsoever to possess the Dwarf, he was insignificant. If he thought his little act would be enough to convince it, he was greatly mistaken.  
  
The problem was the Dwarf would not let go until he was sure the creature had deserted the Elf's body. The only way to recover its host's freedom would be to either get rid of the Dwarf - unfeasible while being held captive - or to comply.  
  
Despite its reticence, the creature could see at least a couple of advantages in possessing the Dwarf. Especially if…  
  
It contemplated with delight the bemused look on the Dwarf's face as its host smirked.  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas could feel the change in the creature's intentions almost as clearly as if they were his own. One moment it planned on not switching to Gimli, the next it suddenly seemed to be its main objective.  
  
Unnerved he tried to prevent that smirk from playing on his lips but it was no use.  
  
"What do you think is so funny?" Gimli asked coldly.  
  
"You are, Dwarf. Your attempts to save your friend are pathetic."  
  
At least it was no longer pretending, Legolas noted. Nonetheless, there had to be a reason for its sudden change of purpose.  
  
"Tell me which is most pathetic," Gimli began with defiance, "trying to save a friend or completely depending on someone else to live?"  
  
The creature must be plotting something, Legolas thought while it snorted - he was beginning to separate the creature's doings from his own.  
  
"Are you trying to provoke me?" it enquired with a smile.  
  
It was preparing itself to leave his body, Legolas was sure of it - he could feel it. While he was still subdued, its control was getting less octopus-like.  
  
"Is it working?" Gimli questioned back rather casually.  
  
"Unfortunately, no," the creature calmly answered. "It is real challenges I seek, not meaningless battles of wit."  
  
If one of them was truly trying to provoke the other, it was the creature and not the other way round. Legolas suddenly realised something. Physical and eye contact. It was all it needed to switch from an host to another. Their legs were touching and Gimli kept staring at him. Oh Valar. The creature could switch to the Dwarf whenever it wished to.  
  
"If you want a real challenge then try me as an host. It will not be as easy as it was with the Man and Elf."  
  
"Do you really think so?" the creature teased.  
  
"I dare you," challenged the Dwarf.  
  
Do not be stupid, Gimli, Legolas could not help thinking while beginning to fear what might be to come. Why did the Dwarf have to be so stubborn? Could he not just -  
  
He froze as it began. While staring intently at Gimli, it began leaving. No. No, no, he would not allow it to switch to his best friend and have him go through the same things as he had.  
  
With all the strength he had left, he tried to retain the creature, to prevent it from leaving. But it managed to easily escape him as if sliding through his grasp. It left Legolas, leaving behind a feeling that some part of him had been taken away.  
  
Once the creature was out of reach and probably already controlling Gimli as the Dwarf's blank stare suggested, Legolas suddenly felt incredibly empty and useless. He clenched his fists with rage, when his nails dug into his palms he realised he was now free to move.)  
  
After an instant of relief, panic overwhelmed him again. Gimli was in great danger and if -  
  
He watched as the Dwarf fell brusquely backwards, his eyes closed as if rendered unconscious.  
  
"Gimli! GIMLI!!" Legolas called at the top of his lungs despite the fact that the Dwarf was only a few feet from him. He frantically pulled on the ropes that held him but that only made the rope cut deeper into his wrists skin. Gimli knew the Elf's strength, the knots were tight.  
  
He turned to the Norean who was standing some distance away. "Cindra! Cindra, untie me!" he ordered with a tilt of his head towards his hands.  
  
The young woman remained still despite his command and looked alternately at the Elf and at the Dwarf with a puzzled expression on her face. "W- what happened?" she eventually stammered.  
  
"Come on, quickly!" Legolas impatiently demanded, casting a worried look at his friend.  
  
"But… How am I to know that you are not… And that Gimli is… Well…" she stuttered.  
  
The Elf sighed. She was right, someone external to all this mess could not tell. He himself could not be positive about the creature's fate. "At least try to see if he is all right," said he as he turned his attention back to the still unconscious Dwarf.  
  
Cindra nodded and immediately moved towards them. As she leant over Gimli, the Dwarf's eyes opened abruptly. She jumped back in surprise while Gimli sat bolt upright, looking around but naught betraying what just occurred.  
  
Legolas allowed despair to fill his heart. It was too late. The creature had taken possession of his dearest friend's body and mind. He closed his eyes, unable to face reality, not wanting to see the Dwarf in pain. He soon opened them when he heard Gimli's voice.  
  
"Is that all? I expected more… trouble… and resistance…"  
  
While Legolas knew it was not really Gimli speaking, he could not help asking: "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Well, the creature! It seemed to give you trouble. Obviously it was easier to handle for me than it was for you, for the battle of will between it and I is over. And I won." While saying this, Gimli was faintly aware of the other two staring at him in disbelief.  
  
"You mean…" Cindra began. "You… vanquished the creature?"  
  
Legolas vigorously shook his head. "It is a trick. The creature wants us to think so."  
  
"A trick?" Gimli snorted. "I knew you would say that. Why would I have not managed to get rid of it? Because you could not? Is it so hard to believe that a Dwarf could succeed where an Elf failed? I used to complain about the stiff necks of Elves but I admit I expected better from you," he finished with a slight pout.  
  
Legolas examined his friend closely. It had been accurately phrased - Gimli could have said that. Either the creature was improving or…  
  
"Gimli, if it is really you, understand me. How can I be sure about what happened?" reasoned Legolas.  
  
The Dwarf sighed. "If you doubt my identity, ask me about something only I would know,"  
  
The Elf shook his head. "That will not do, it has access to memories."  
  
"Oh, has it? Hmm…" Gimli frowned. "Then there is no way to convince you I can think of." He paused. "Wait, the creature could have switched to someone else again!" he added suspiciously.  
  
"I can assure you that it did not switch back to me," declared Legolas  
  
"Then if it is not you nor me, maybe it…" His voice trailed off as both he and Legolas stared at each other until they simultaneously turned to Cindra.  
  
The Norean suddenly felt like a sheep trapped in the middle of a pack of wolves. "Do not look at me like that, I do not even understand what happened. I am not even sure something *did* happen."  
  
Legolas sighed. How could any of them know? The choice would be especially tricky for Cindra for she would have to decide to the best of her knowledge and belief whom to free.  
  
"Maybe I should warn King Elessar," the young woman suggested.  
  
"No. Cindra, free Legolas," insisted Gimli.  
  
The Elf turned to Gimli, surprise obvious in his eyes. "Gimli, you do not even know if - "  
  
"I do. I know something for sure and it is that you are no longer cursed with that creature. I clearly felt it switch to me." He turned to the young woman. "Cindra, come on, please free him." He looked at the Elf again. "I do not mind being held captive until you are convinced of who I am. It does not really matter."  
  
Legolas stared at Gimli speechless, barely aware of Cindra untying the rope that held his wrists together.  
  
"Wait," he told her, his eyes never leaving the Dwarf. "There is no hurry, we need to be sure about what really happened."  
  
"We are both sure that the creature left you for me. What happened after, only I could know. I understand your misgivings and honestly I do not mind. Let it be that way, you free and I restrained until we can find a reliable way to prove what happened to the creature."  
  
Cindra looked alternately at both of them, deep in thought until she finally gave a slight smile. "In case any of you is interested by my opinion, *I* think we are rid of this creature and I am going to free both of you."  
  
Both Elf and Dwarf stared at her as if a third arm had just begun to grow on her back.  
  
"Allow me to prove my point. Let's suppose Gimli is the one possessed by the creature. Would he ask me to free Legolas and to keep himself captive? Certainly not. Then let's suppose it is Legolas. Would he have shown any concern when Gimli fell back? The answer is still no. Now let's suppose I am the one possessed by the creature. Would I free any of you?"  
  
She arched an eyebrow with a doubtful expression. She did not wait for any of them to answer before she finished unfastening Legolas' ties. Quickly she moved to Gimli and freed him as well.  
  
Both friends stood up, releasing breaths they did not know they were holding. They studied each other closely for a little while, before raising delighted smiles.  
  
"I am glad you did not have to endure the creature's presence," Legolas finally said.  
  
"And I am glad you are no longer ailed with it," Gimli answered. He was about to add something but stopped as he saw in the archer's eyes a gleam he had learned to fear. A gleam that indicated the Elf was about to do something the Dwarf would not like. And he was not proven wrong.  
  
In a swift movement, Legolas threw his arms around Gimli and pulled him in a tight and affectionate hug, lifting the Dwarf up to his own height with a strength no one would have suspected from someone so slender.  
  
"What the -… What do you think you are doing, Elf?" Gimli complained, his feet desperately trying to reach the ground. "Put me down at once or I will use my axe to make sure you do not have enough arms left to ever do that again!!"  
  
His threat did not have the expected effect but the exact opposite. Legolas tightened his embrace for he was now absolutely positive his friend was truly the one he was supposed to be.  
  
"Legolas, I assure you, if you do not - "  
  
The Elf eventually let him go, a wide smile still stretched on his lips.  
  
Gimli scowled. "I hate Elves."  
  
"You do not," pointed out Legolas.  
  
"I do," affirmed Gimli.  
  
"What about the Lady Galadriel?" questioned Legolas.  
  
"Not the Lady Galadriel. Maybe it is just Silvan Elves," rectified Gimli.  
  
"Did I ever tell you that technically I am not a Silvan Elf?" Legolas pointed out with a bright smile.  
  
Gimli sighed. "All right. I believe it is only you I hate, then."  
  
"Why did you go through all this trouble to help me if you do?" accused Legolas.  
  
"I was bored," returned the Dwarf.  
  
"That is not what I heard," said Legolas mischievously.  
  
"You heard wrong. That creature was giving you hallucinations," explained Gimli matter-of-factly.  
  
Legolas felt a sudden urge to hug the Dwarf once more but Gimli immediately recognised the gleam in the Elf's eye.  
  
"Move and you will never be able to use your bow again." Hearing Cindra no longer being able to hold her laughter he turned to her. "And *you* had better not tell anyone about what happened," he warned.  
  
"Tell who about what? I did not see anything," she answered, mirth obvious on her face.  
  
Gimli grumbled something inaudible - inaudible to the Norean but probably not to Legolas since the Elf's smile widened.  
  
"We should go back to the campfire before nightfall," the Dwarf eventually said aloud. "I cannot wait to tell the others a Dwarf succeeded where an Elf failed."  
  
Legolas' smile slowly faded. Oh Valar, he was going to hear his friend boast about it until the end of his days… No, he corrected bitterly, until the end of the Dwarf's days…  
  
Gimli picked up his axe and Legolas his bow, quiver and knives, all of which had been set aside during their 'captivity'. Somehow Legolas was thankful the creature had brought those along - though he dared not think of the initial use it had for them.  
  
While Gimli began walking towards what Legolas believed to be the campfire's direction. Closely followed by Cindra, the Elf cast a look around, immediately locating where they were by identifying the different kinds of plants and trees. He knew this land well for he had scouted it many a time during his younger days - they were close to the southern border of Mirkwood. And he knew it to be no friendly land.  
  
"Gimli, how long have we stayed here?" Legolas asked as he caught up with his two companions.  
  
The Dwarf shrugged though he was a bit confused by the distress in the Elf's voice. "An hour I would say."  
  
"No, I mean, stayed in this area. We did not move much since Crireth's death. How long ago was that?"  
  
"Several days. Legolas, what is - "  
  
"This place is not safe," explained Legolas. "There are hordes of Orcs patrolling around. Unless it has dramatically changed since last time I was here, staying at the same spot for too long would draw their attention to us. I am surprised we have not."  
  
"I would not be so confident…" Gimli suddenly noted worriedly, looking as if he was listening to something coming from the campfire's general direction.  
  
Legolas followed his gaze, but found hard to fully focus his attention. It seemed that his senses had remained weakened even after the creature left his body. Must be a side effect of long possession, he thought. While he hoped it would quickly pass, he eventually managed to hear some of what was going on.  
  
"The campfire is being attacked by Orcs…" he murmured. The next second, he heard something else before Gimli this time and turned his head left. "And some of them have just found us…"  
  
Legolas immediately drew his bow and swiftly notched an arrow on the string, hoping that even with hindered senses his eyes would not fail him.  
  
At his side, Gimli handled his axe before asking in a low voice: "How many?"  
  
"Too many, approaching fast."  
  
Gimli nodded. "Good. I have always found it more fun when we were outnumbered…" he said, his tone so serious it made Cindra glare at him from behind.  
  
"Not as many as the worst we have seen before," Legolas observed.  
  
"Oh. You mean, no new record? Such a pity…" the Dwarf answered with disappointment.  
  
The archer managed to refrain a smile. "Gimli, neither you nor I are in our best form…"  
  
"I know," Gimli admitted gravely. "It will have to do though."  
  
The Dwarf turned round and saw Cindra, pale and looking sick. Little did he know that it was their casual pre-battle chitchatting that was making her ill. How could they be so light-hearted? she was thinking.  
  
"Cindra, stay behind," Gimli told her. "We will try to protect you but remain alert. Some others might attack from the rear."  
  
Great, now she looked utterly panicked, though he was not sure whether it was because of his words or the Orc's grunts growing louder as they drew nearer. If she did not stop shaking soon her dagger would fall to the ground. And stabbing one's foot right before battle would not be wise.  
  
"Now listen to me carefully," he went on. "Keep a firm grip on the handle at all cost. Do *not* lose your weapon. Arm always stretched at the end of a blow, so as to not let the enemy too close. Considering your lack of experience, use the point rather than the edge, you will have better chances to kill at first blow."  
  
His last words to her were probably the worst. "Good luck," said he as he wielded his axe as Legolas shot his first arrow.  
  


*****

  
  
Her first kill, she attributed it solely to sheer luck.  
  
Legolas soon ran out of arrows, for a moment she remained hypnotized by the sight of Orcs falling dead while the odd pair of warriors fought in a perfect symbiosis.  
  
She might as well not have heard that slight noise right behind her. As she turned round quickly the Orc just impaled himself on her dagger's blade - a dagger she was holding firmly, like Gimli said, and her instinctively stretched out arm *did* prevent the Orc's sword from killing her first.  
  
She slowly pulled the blade out of the flesh, taking a few steps back as she watched with disgust the limp form fall to the ground. She lifted a hand to her mouth, her last lunch rising in her throat at the sight of sticky red substance on the cold metal.  
  
She felt a sudden urge to throw the weapon as far away from her as she could but Gimli's words echoed in her mind. _'Do *not* lose your weapon'._  
  
She laid her back against a nearby tree and sank to the ground, trying to block all sounds of the ongoing battle. She just wanted to be somewhere else, *anywhere* else.  
  
Maybe if she stayed still no one would hear or see her. Maybe they would just forget about her…  
  
Her second kill was a bit more deliberate, though it was not really *her* kill.  
  
She could not tell how much time had passed - maybe a full hour, maybe only a few seconds - until she clearly heard a noise, coming from the other side of the tree. She silently jumped to her feet and cast a wary look around the tree trunk. There she saw an Orc's back. An archer. He had not seen her but had obviously seen Legolas and Gimli for he was aiming an arrow at them.  
  
Briefly distracted by the impressive accumulation of bodies in front of the pair, instinct immediately took over. After shortly wondering where she was supposed to hit - anywhere would do, she concluded - she sank the blade deep into the Orc's back, her eyes half shut.  
  
A growl of pain escaped the Orc's throat as his deflected arrow hit the ground a few inches from Legolas' feet. Then the Orc turned around and faced her with a feral look.  
  
The only thing she managed to think at that moment was that the Orc was much taller and stronger than she was. Funny how your brain could suddenly go on vacation when it was the only thing you had left.  
  
What she least expected was a low thud as the Orc fell to the ground - and that she was still alive. She quickly realised Legolas had just used the Orc's arrow at his feet to shoot him.  
  
The Elf gave her a short nod before turning his attention back to closer concerns.  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli laid the tip of his axe on the ground and let go a sigh of exhaustion, laying his elbows on the handle of his favoured weapon.  
  
"Well, I believe we fared quite fine," the Dwarf said calmly, sweat dripping down his shoulders.  
  
"Better than *they* did, anyway," Legolas answered with a slight smile while indicating the pile of dead Orcs, the only clue betraying his recent battle being his slightly ruffled hair.  
  
"Wounded?" Gimli asked his friend.  
  
"No," the Elf answered. "You?"  
  
"Same." The Dwarf turned round. "Cindra?"  
  
"Yes?" The Norean was walking warily towards them, still casting worried looks around.  
  
"Are you all right?" asked Gimli.  
  
"Well, I am alive… Which is quite enjoyable…" answered Cindra distractedly.  
  
"No wound, then?" Gimli rephrased.  
  
"No wound," the young woman confirmed with a nod.  
  
"Fine. I hope they fared as well as we did at the campfire," Gimli added with worry.  
  
"I can hear Aragorn's voice," Legolas noted, "though I can not tell about his men."  
  
"Let's go back to the campfire." Gimli paused before looking up to the Elf, a light in his eyes that looked strangely like challenge. "How many?"  
  
"More than you can ever dream of," Legolas answered casually.  
  
Cindra stared at them. What were they talking about?  
  
"I see. You do not want to tell me your poor score," taunted Gimli.  
  
"I would not want to add to your misery," confessed Legolas.  
  
"Worry not about my misery and tell me your figure," challenged Gimli.  
  
"As you wish, Master Dwarf. Thirty two," Legolas said calmly. "What about you?"  
  
Gimli stared blankly at the Elf in silence for a couple of seconds. "Let's go back to the campfire," he eventually said, turning round.  
  
Legolas stopped him, holding his shoulder. "Oh no, Master Dwarf, you started this game, let's finish it," he said, not even trying to hide how much he enjoyed the situation.  
  
Gimli hesitated a few more seconds. "Eighteen," the Dwarf eventually muttered under his breath as if ashamed.  
  
"Eighteen!" Legolas exclaimed with delight. "My, Gimli, are you unwell?" He reached out to the Dwarf's forehead, as if to check for a fever but Gimli harshly pushed his arm away.  
  
"It is because of that bow of yours. The ones you shot should not count," Gimli concluded with a slight pout.  
  
"Why should they not?" Legolas asked with a fake indignant tone.  
  
"We should start counting only when we have both begun to kill," said Gimli peevishly.  
  
Cindra was still staring at them. They were discussing their kills?? Were they putting on a show just for her or did they usually do that even alone? She had thought their pre-battle talking to be quite a thing. The post-battle one was another - though it was obvious they had already been through this argument before. It was incredible the way they managed to sound like bickering children…  
  
"Do you wish to count how many of them I shot and deduct them from the total? I need to retrieve my arrows anyway, so it is no bother. Though considering the number of arrows I have it would still - "  
  
"I think that is quite enough, Legolas," Gimli stopped him grumpily.  
  
The Elf smiled. "Worry not, Master Dwarf. After all, even if it is not up to your standards, eighteen is not that bad," Legolas mocked.  
  
"And I thought *two* was a pretty decent score…" Cindra intervened.  
  
Both Elf and Dwarf stared at her for a few seconds, then exchanged a look. All three of them broke into laughter, the tensions from the last days suddenly lifting from their shoulders.  
  
The young woman wiped tears of relief from the corner of her eyes, glad that everything was now over. No more creature, no more battle… Soon she would be back home and all that would be no more than an unpleasant memory…  
  
"We should go back to the campfire," Gimli repeated once he calmed down.  
  
Legolas nodded and within minutes he retrieved all of his arrows. Soon he joined the Dwarf, smiling mischievously, opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it again and finally said: "Nonetheless, you have to admit that - "  
  
"Legolas, I said it was quite enough…" warned the Dwarf.  
  
Cindra watched them walking away side by side and bickering for a little while before following them, shaking her head. And they really thought no one would see at once what great friends they were?  
  
She only had the time to take a couple of steps before feeling a strong arm wrap around her waist.  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli turned round at hearing the young woman's gasp and immediately drew his axe at the sight of the Orc. At his side, Legolas had already an arrow notched, but was holding back as the foul beast was holding the Norean in front of him like a shield.  
  
Cindra was struggling to get free but immediately stood still when the cold blade of a knife was pressed against her throat.  
  
"Drop your weapons," the Orc growled towards Gimli and Legolas.  
  
Both Elf and Dwarf remained motionless for split seconds.  
  
"I cannot get him…" Gimli murmured to the archer.  
  
"I know…" Legolas whispered back.  
  
Gimli slowly lowered his axe reluctantly, keeping the Orc under his scrutinizing look. As for Legolas, he seemed to be taking his time.  
  
"Drop your weapons!!" the Orc snapped again while increasing the pressure of his blade against the Norean's skin menacingly. "I will not repeat it."  
  
Cindra dared not to breathe. Gimli had almost dropped his axe to the ground. But what was Legolas doing? His eyes were narrowed, as if he was trying to evaluate a distance or an angle. Cindra paled. He was not seriously considering doing *that*, was he? The Orc's body was mainly protected behind hers, except maybe for his head, protruding above her shoulder. Her eyes grew wide with fear and she mouthed a silent 'NO' to the Elf.  
  
As she did so, in the twinkling of an eye an arrow whistled past her ear. Instinctively she closed her eyes as she felt the Orc fall to the ground, his blade sliding along her shoulder.  
  
It took her several seconds to realize that Gimli and Legolas had already walked next to her.  
  
"Are you all right?" the Dwarf asked cautiously.  
  
"Huh?" was all she managed to answer, still too stunned to formulate a full coherent sentence.  
  
"You are wounded," Legolas remarked worriedly, indicating her shoulder with a nod.  
  
The young woman quickly looked over the wound. It seemed the Orc's blade had left a bloody trail behind as it slid along her shoulder.  
  
She slightly shook her head. "This is just a superficial wound, nothing to worry about. It will heal quickly."  
  
"My apologies. None of this should have happened. I should have heard him coming," Legolas explained. Hopefully he would soon recover the full keenness of his senses.  
  
"There is no need to blame yourself," Cindra answered. "I should not have remained behind either."  
  
"Let's go back to the campfire and have your wound tended properly," the Dwarf offered.  
  
Gimli allowed his two companions to walk ahead of him. He was glad it was all over. He had expected it would be harder but he was not going to complain. Seeing a smile on his Elven friend's face again so soon was more than he had hoped.  
  
Nonetheless, he was a tad worried by that new headache he had at the back of his head…  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Nine...  
  
So, this cliffy is less evil, right? No? Oh well. You guys are never happy. *g*  
I still don't know how long it will take me to write the next chapter, I'm rather busy these days. But if you write a long and nice review it might hurry thinks up... *wink* *wink* Hmm... Actually, even if it's short and evil it will do... lol   
  
**Next chapter**: "_Poisonous guilt_" 


	11. Poisonous Guilt

**A/N:** New chapter!! Hope you'll like it!!  
  
**Artemisa:** Well, here you are! Enjoy!  
  
**the wannabe dwarf**: You say you know where the creature is? Well I hope you do!! And thanks for calling my mind "deviously talented", I think it's a great compliment! ;-) I hope this new chapter arrived soon enough!!  
  
Big thanks to **Candice** for betaing this story once more!! I can't thank her enough!!  
  


**Chapter 10  
Poisonous Guilt**

  
  
When Legolas, Gimli and Cindra returned to the campfire a few minutes later, they only saw Aragorn, Ethiannor and Niyan.  
  
Aragorn immediately spotted them and started toward them. "Where have you been?" he asked accusingly, looking at all three of them but more intently at Gimli.  
  
"Legolas was the one possessed by the creature," the Dwarf explained. "When he left with Cindra I knew she was in danger, so I discreetly followed. We managed to get rid of the creature, all is fine now."  
  
"You should have told me," Aragorn snapped - he was angry.  
  
"The creature might have heard," Gimli argued.  
  
"Then you should have told me once Legolas had left," Aragorn replied, "unless you had something particular in mind."  
  
"I had," the Dwarf confirmed.  
  
"And would you care telling me what that plan was?" Aragorn asked, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
"I wanted to first isolate Legolas. Then force the creature to switch from him to me," Gimli explained plainly.  
  
"And it worked?" the former Ranger asked unbelieving, an eyebrow raised.  
  
"It did," Legolas confirmed. "When the creature tried to invade Gimli's mind it did not succeed and was vanquished."  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "What you did was completely irresponsible, Gimli. It could have turned out for the worse."  
  
"I know," Gimli admitted, "but I had to take the chance."  
  
Aragorn sighed heavily. "Thanks to the Valar you are all fine now."  
  
"Cindra was wounded during the Orcs attack," Legolas corrected.  
  
As Aragorn turned a healer's examining look on Cindra, she clarified, "no need for worry, it is merely a superficial wound."  
  
"I shall have a look at it anyway," insisted Aragorn while he fetched what would be required.  
  
As the former Ranger cleaned the Norean's wound, Legolas enquired as to how they fared during the Orc attack.  
  
"We lost Raighad," Aragorn answered sadly, the soldier's body was nowhere to be seen - the burial had probably already been taken care of by the remaining men.  
  
Aragorn took a handful of healing herbs and laid them evenly on Cindra's wound. Once that was done he wrapped a bandage around her shoulder.  
  
When he had finished he told her, "You should go and rest," before standing up and turning to face his other companions.  
  
"Now that we are freed from that creature, we should all have a long and more than deserved rest tonight. Tomorrow we will leave for Mirkwood as originally planned. We will need more rest and replenish our supplies as well before going back to Gondor," Aragorn concluded.  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli got to his feet and had a stretch while massaging the back of his neck. His night had been tainted with strange dreams but the rest had been gladly welcomed.  
  
He quickly spotted Aragorn and Legolas, next to the campfire, taking their breakfast. Ethiannor and Niyan were some distance away, packing and preparing for their leaving. As for Cindra she was still fast asleep, laying on her side in her bedroll, her wounded shoulder out of harm way.  
  
Gimli joined his two old friends by the fire and inhaled the delectable scent of the food cooking.  
  
"Hmm," he began appreciatively while his eyes roamed over the dead mammals that constituted the pan's contents, "real food…"  
  
"I hunted these early this morning, I thought you might enjoy them," Aragorn explained.  
  
"After weeks of a lembas diet I would enjoy quite anything," Gimli noted with a chuckle.  
  
"And pray tell, what exactly is wrong with lembas?" Legolas asked.  
  
"What is wrong with lembas, you ask? What is wrong with lembas is that you Elves have no idea whatsoever about what 'tasteful' means."  
  
"Lembas are made to be nourishing, not tasteful," Legolas objected. "Besides, I believe you will think otherwise when you taste some of my Lord's wine in Mirkwood."  
  
"I alone will judge if you would allow me."  
  
"As you wish," Legolas answered with a shrug.  
  
Gimli turned and indicated the Norean's sleeping form with a nod. "Why did none of you wake her?" he asked.  
  
"She is wounded, she will need the extra rest," Aragorn explained and Gimli nodded. "Besides, she has never shown much interest in having breakfast before."  
  
Gimli smiled knowingly. "She does not know what she is missing…" he said while looking hungrily over the meal again.  
  
"After your passage there would not be much left for anyone anyway," Legolas observed with amusement while Gimli prepared himself a full plate.  
  
"Please excuse a poor Dwarf fond of good food and wine," Gimli replied sarcastically, "but I had better take advantage of what we have now for we will most probably have to endure Elven tasteless food during our stay in Mirkwood."  
  
"You were not really complaining back in Lorien," Legolas remarked.  
  
Aragorn watched his friends and resumed his eating as the pair began one of their usual endless arguments, remembering how much he used to appreciate the quiet meals back in Minas Tirith. Now they appeared extremely dull to him as he enjoyed his friend's battle of wit.  
  
The breakfast went on quite unchanged. Every now and then Aragorn's judgment was called for but he always made sure he never sided with anyone - better not with those two. When his men had finished their preparations, they joined the rest of them at the fireside for breakfast, and Aragorn noted that the two were careful not to give the Elf or Dwarf any opportunity to involve them in the discussion.  
  
When the breakfast was over - but surely not the argument since they were now discussing Dwarven and Elvish hunting abilities and, of course, disagreeing - Aragorn spoke up.  
  
"We should wake Cindra," he began, "for we had better leave soon and not linger here any longer."  
  
"I will, for it seems it is impossible to get any information penetrate that Dwarf's thick head," Legolas offered as he rose.  
  
"May I return the compliment, Master Elf?"  
  
Legolas turned his back to Gimli, making sure the Dwarf could not see his smile, and walked to where the young woman was sleeping before kneeling next to her.  
  
"Cindra," he called softly, not wanting to startle her, for she must be fast asleep if Gimli's sporadic outraged outbursts had not woken her yet. "Cindra," he repeated when he got no answer, putting his hand on her arm and carefully avoiding touching her wounded shoulder, hoping the contact would wake her.  
  
Her eyelids flicked slightly but her eyes remained closed.  
  
Legolas frowned and examined her face. Her skin was flushed. Increasing the pressure of his hand on her arm he slowly made her roll on her back. Even the movement had no effect and she fell limply on her back, still unconscious.  
  
Instinctively Legolas quickly drew two fingers to her neck, momentarily relieved to feel a pulse there, before raising his hand to her forehead.  
  
"Aragorn!" he called worriedly when he felt a burning fever.  
  
Within seconds Aragorn arrived, Gimli in tail. Legolas drew aside to allow the former Ranger to check the Norean's forehead as well. Aragorn then lifted the young woman's eyelids one after the other without a word.  
  
"Her mouth is dry," he murmured while examining her face closely.  
  
He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger to hold her head still while he lowered his ear an inch above her mouth. After a couple of seconds of silent and attentive listening he stated, "She has troubles breathing."  
  
Aragorn mentally gathered the symptoms - they were more than enough for him to guess what ailed her.  
  
"Beinheryn¹. It provokes death by slowly paralysing the lungs muscles," he said.  
  
"Poison?" Gimli exclaimed. "But how…"  
  
He did not have the time to end his question since Aragorn was undoing the bandage around Cindra's shoulder. While the wound had closed during the night thanks to the former Ranger's skilled healing, the bruised skin around it that was still purplish the day before now displayed shades of green.  
  
"This is how," Aragorn answered.  
  
"The Orc's blade was poisoned…" Gimli guessed while Legolas, next to him, was growing paler than usual.  
  
Loosing not a single second Aragorn rose to his feet.  
  
"She was rather lucky for being barely wounded. A real wound would have contained enough poison to kill her within a few hours." He paused. "I have to gather a few ingredients to prepare a draught that will slow the poison's effects. However I am afraid I will not be able to stop them completely, for some things I would need cannot be found in those desolated lands. We have to go to Mirkwood quickly so she may be healed."  
  
Aragorn turned to his men. "Ethiannor, Niyan, build a litter, we will have to carry her to Mirkwood." He then turned to his friends. "Gimli, Legolas, I want you to keep an eye on her and keep watch while they prepare the litter and while I gather the ingredients I need. If she convulses, make sure to pull her on her side. Understand?"  
  
As they both nodded he turned round and disappeared into the woods.  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli and Legolas sat silently on each side of the young woman, the breakfast's joyfulness already long gone, while Aragorn's men busied themselves with their work.  
  
Legolas' gaze was lost in the distance as if he was scanning the area, though Gimli knew it was not the look he had when keeping watch. He finally decided to give voice to his concerns.  
  
"What is wrong?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing," Legolas answered, dismissing the question with a shrug.   
  
"You have not said a word since we found her unconscious," the Dwarf insisted.  
  
"Well I have now, have I not?"  
  
Gimli knew from the Elf's look it would be useless to persist and they both fell into a silence only disturbed by the sound of Aragorn's men chopping wood.  
  
After a couple of minutes however, Legolas timidly spoke up. "Gimli?"  
  
"Aye?"  
  
"How did Qeladon die?"  
  
The Dwarf stared at him for a few seconds before answering. "He was killed by Orcs back in that clearing, do you not remember?"  
  
"Did you see him die?" Legolas asked again.  
  
"I did not. Legolas, why are you asking this?"  
  
The Elf sighed, pointedly avoiding Gimli's gaze. "There is a part of my memories, right after the creature possessed me, that are inaccessible to me," he eventually murmured. "I know not what I did during that period of time. As far as I know I could well be the one who killed Qeladon." Before Gimli could object he went on. "Then I killed Crireth. And now Cindra might die because of my negligence."  
  
Gimli let go an heavy sigh. "First, you did not kill Qeladon. Second, Crireth's death was not your responsibility, the creature is the only one to blame for that. Third, I do not understand how you could be held liable for what is happening to Cindra."  
  
"Poisoning one's blade is a common practice of this region's Orcs. I have scouted these lands enough to know that for sure, I should have remembered," explained Legolas with a guilty look.  
  
"Come on, this is ridiculous, Legolas, and you know that," Gimli assured.  
  
"Had I warned Aragorn earlier he would have been able to treat the poison while the wound was still open and she might have had better chances of survival," argued Legolas.  
  
"You could not know, and I doubt it would have changed anything," Gimli pointed out.  
  
The Elf's eyes found the unconscious body of the Norean. "She is young. She deserves to live," he whispered. "I should have heard that Orc coming. It is entirely my fault," he ended.  
  
Gimli shook his head. "I should have heard him coming as well," he objected, a bit short of arguments.  
  
"You are a Dwarf," Legolas stated.  
  
Had they been in the middle of one of their verbal jousts, Gimli would have assumed it was meant as some kind of insult. But they were not and he knew it was not the intended meaning. Gimli was a Dwarf but he, being an Elf, was expected to do better.  
  
"Even an Elf can fail sometimes," Gimli said softly in an attempt to comfort his friend, before inwardly cursing himself - he had just implied Legolas *had* failed.  
  
Legolas gave a weak mirthless smile. Gimli decided not to add a single thing, fearing it would aggravate his friend's morale more than it would alleviate it.  
  


*****

  
  
By the time Aragorn came back Ethiannor and Niyan had nearly finished building the litter. He silently mixed the ingredients he had found together and the draught was almost ready when he heard Gimli's cry.  
  
"Aragorn!" the Dwarf called. "She is… She is waking!"  
  
The King of Gondor hurried to the young woman's side while Gimli and Legolas drew aside as her eyes slowly opened. She seemed dazed and lost, Aragorn immediately noted the abnormal dilatation of her pupils, another symptom of the poisoning.  
  
"Cindra, can you hear me?" he asked softly.  
  
Her nod was almost imperceptible. "What…"  
  
Aragorn stopped her with a movement of his hand. "Do not talk. Save your strength and let me explain. The blade that wounded you yesterday was poisoned with beinheryn."  
  
She first seemed confused, as if she did not know that word, then thoughtful while she mentally listed her own symptoms to establish her own diagnostic.  
  
"Deadly nightshade?" she eventually articulated with a weak voice.  
  
"It is another name for that plant, aye," confirmed Aragorn.  
  
Aragorn could read in her eyes that she knew what it meant. She turned her head away from him.  
  
"I see," she whispered.  
  
"We will reach Mirkwood soon enough to have you healed at King Thranduil's House of Healing," he assured.  
  
"No you will not," the young woman replied, turning her tear filled eyes back to him. "Do not make promises you cannot hold, King Elessar," she added with a frail voice but looking at him straight in the eyes as if defying him to say otherwise. He did not.  
  
Ethiannor and Niyan chose that moment to bring the finished litter over to them.  
  
"Have her drink that draught," Aragorn ordered, handing the beverage to Niyan. With a gesture he then urged Legolas and Gimli to follow him.  
  
"Legolas, how long will it take to get to your Lord's palace?" he questioned as soon as they were far enough for his liking.  
  
"Four days³ I would say. Three if we really hurry," Legolas answered. "How long will she live?"  
  
Aragorn hesitated. "With that draught to slow the poison, two at most," he said in a low voice.  
  
Gimli noted Legolas closed his eyes at hearing that statement and knew the Elf still held himself responsible for what was happening. They all knew they would not make it in time to save her.  
  
"Maybe we should tell her…" Gimli suggested.  
  
"She is a healer. She already knows," Aragorn answered.  
  
As he said that Cindra's voice rose. She recited with a trembling voice what sounded like a prayer, spoken in her own language. They managed to recognise the name of Eru, but had they been able to understand the language of Norea here is what they could have heard:  
  
_"O Eru, thou took those dearest to my heart, now claim me. I call upon the mercy of thee to claim me quickly for I long to meet those who await me in the Halls of Mandos."_  
  
"We will hurry, then," Aragorn continued, "and if we do not stop to rest for the night we may have a chance."  
  


*****

  
  
They immediately set off, Cindra laying on the litter carried in turn by two men. The young woman was quickly unconscious again, lost in a poison induced agitated sleep. All were walking the fastest they could, hoping to cover the maximum ground before nightfall - their progression would prove trickiest in the darkness of the moonless night to come.  
  
It was Aragorn's men who were carrying the litter , Ethiannor at the front end and Niyan at the rear, when the latter called, "Ethiannor!"  
  
The older soldier gave a quick look over his shoulder to see what was happening and put the litter down when he saw Cindra shaken by strong convulsions.  
  
Remembering his King's instructions Niyan hurried to the young woman's side and immediately rolled her on her side, holding her while she emptied her stomach's contents on the ground in obviously painful jerks.   
  
The young man looked up at Aragorn as he held tightly to the still shaking body of the Norean, stroking her brow in a calming gesture, hoping the former Ranger would provide a solution. But Aragorn had none to offer, much to his own dismay.   
  
"She is condemned," Gimli whispered to Aragorn. "We will not reach Mirkwood early enough to save her."  
  
Aragorn glared at the Dwarf. "They were three, coming from Norea as ambassadors of their homeland to warn us of the coming of an evil creature. Two already died. I will not send a messenger to Norea to inform them that all three died while under the protection of Gondor. She will live," he concluded, not trusting his last words as much as he would have wished, and turned to continue his way.  
  
He was quickly stopped by Legolas. "Aragorn, I just came up with an idea that might allow us to bring her to the House of Healing in time."  
  
"Do tell," Aragorn urged.  
  
"We have several outposts along the southern border of Mirkwood," Legolas began, "at least we had the last time I was there but I have no reason to think it would have changed. A couple of horses are usually kept at each of these outposts in case an urgent message has to be sent to my Lord."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "I see. If we can reach one of these outposts, someone will be able to carry her to the House of Healing on horseback."  
  
"Absolutely," Legolas agreed. "If we do not stop for the night we can get to the closest outpost by tomorrow morning," the Elf estimated.  
  
"This should work," Aragorn admitted, "it should take less than a day on horseback to cover the distance between south and north of Mirkwood.³ We shall do that, then," he concluded, gesturing everyone to keep on going.  
  


*****

  
  
They went on advancing all night, barely ever pausing to nibble on some food or have a little drink. However, at the first lights of dawn as Legolas had planned, they reached the edge of the thick forest.  
  
With a move of his hand, Aragorn invited the Elf forward. "Legolas, if you would take the lead. You know those lands better than any of us."  
  
The Elf agreed with a nod and entered the forest first. Ever since its edge had been within his eyesight, the feeling of being home had overwhelmed him and a part of him kept thinking 'at last'. He stepped further into the woods, breathing in the familiar scents.  
  
Remembering that he could not allow himself to marvel at how beautiful the forest had become - more beautiful than it was in his memory - he decided that it was high time he found that outpost.  
  
Only a few minutes of walking deeper into the forest and followed closely by his companions, a smile stretched on his lips as he found it. Their was nothing indicating the presence of Elves nearby, just details only experimented eyes could notice.  
  
He was not proven wrong since a couple of seconds later they were surrounded by a dozen Elven archers. However, their notched arrows were all pointing down to the ground, hence were not as menacing as they could have been.  
  
While Gimli was looking around warily, neither Aragorn or Legolas seemed cautious. The latter even seemed confident and at ease.  
  
However Legolas' eyes grew slightly wider with surprise at the sight of the Elf stepping forward and towards him.  
  
"Mîrdolen," he acknowledged.  
  
"Legolas," the other replied rather dryly.  
  
Gimli observed the pair attentively as they stood silently in front of each other for a few seconds as if sizing one another up. The other Elf may be a bit older than Legolas, though it was hard to tell with Elves, and the two seemed to share a physical likeness. Maybe a relative, Gimli mused, unable to guess any further since Legolas had always been very discrete and secretive about his family.  
  
Both Elves suddenly broke into laughter, clasping one another's arm and affectionately laying a hand on the other's shoulder.  
  
Aye, Gimli thought, they knew each other well.  
  
"We saw you coming," the Elf named Mîrdolen eventually said, pointedly choosing to speak in Westron so as everyone could understand.  
  
Before he could add anything Legolas interrupted him. "I am afraid we will have to save any discussion or explanation for later. We carry a poisoned young woman," he said indicating the litter behind him, "that is in great need of an appropriate healing. How many horses do you have?"  
  
"Only three," Mîrdolen answered, gesturing to an Elf behind him that soon disappeared into the woods. "It is not enough to carry all of you, but only one will be needed for one rider to bring her to the House of Healing."  
  
The other Elf came back, a horse walking next to him with no guidance. When he stopped, the animal continued until it reached Mîrdolen.  
  
"I will take her myself," Mîrdolen offered while absentmindedly caressing the horse's mane, "for things will be smoother if it is I who go and she will be treated quicker."  
  
Legolas nodded while Gimli wondered why it would be simpler if it was that Elf that brought the Norean.  
  
"I will also warn our Lord of," his eyes briefly strayed to rest on Gimli before turning to Legolas again, "your coming."  
  
The Elf's side look was not lost on Gimli, though he was glad to see it had not been filled with disdain or hatred.  
  
On his part, Legolas knew what the other Elf meant. He would warn his King of their coming - and especially of the Dwarf's coming. Surely the arrival of a Dwarf at King Thranduil's palace had better be… forewarned… - if Thranduil knew beforehand, his reaction and subsequent decision might be less… categorical… Legolas mused.  
  
Mîrdolen leapt gracefully on the back of the unsaddled horse and waited until Ethiannor and Niyan brought Cindra next to him. The two lifted the young woman so as the Elf could wrap an arm around her waist and hold her on the horse in front of him.  
  
After securing his grip on the Norean, Mîrdolen assured Legolas, "I will have other horses sent for you all as soon as I arrive."  
  
"It will not be necessary, it is not a long walk," the other Elf replied.  
  
Mîrdolen eyed him suspiciously. "Wish to have more time to prepare for your return, do you?" he mocked, leaving Gimli very surprised at how overfamiliar that Elf was with Legolas - the Elf's King's son.  
  
"Remind me to ask you what exactly it is you did to be given the southern border to patrol," Legolas retorted with a mischievous smile.  
  
The other Elf snorted. "I had better be on my way."  
  
Right before he pushed the horse forward, Legolas warned, "Aldaro, muindor. He alcuiatha annan²." (A/N: "_Hurry, brother. She will not live long._")  
  
Mîrdolen nodded and disappeared in the woods.  
  
"I hope he will arrive in time," Aragorn eventually said.  
  
"Mîrdolen is a fast rider. He will," Legolas guaranted.  
  
Aragorn nodded. "Let us keep going, shall we?" he added.  
  
As they all resumed walking northward, the other Elves dispersed soundlessly into the forest, allowing their Prince and his companions to advance.  
  
Mîrdolen had been right, Legolas thought. He wished he had more time to think over his return to Mirkwood. He had not been there since he left to attend to the Council of Elrond, he was conscious he had changed a lot during those last few years away from Mirkwood. Thranduil might not appreciate so much change in his son…  
  
Furthermore, despite all his warnings, Legolas had befriended many mortals, among which was a Dwarf…  
  
Legolas was at a total loss as to what his father's reaction would be.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
¹ A Sindarin word I made up from bein (beautiful) and heryn (lady) to stand for belladonna (meaning "pretty lady" in Italian), also known as deadly nightshade, an extremely poisonous plant. While I may have taken some liberties with the symptoms of belladonna, most should be all right, though I didn't use *all* the symptoms.  
  
² Hopefully I should have managed to get that Elvish phrase almost grammatically correct. However I couldn't find a Sindarin translation of 'hurry', so I chose the closest in meaning or intention. Hence 'aldaro' should mean 'do not stop'.  
  
³ As my wonderful beta reader Candice pointed out, they wouldn't cross Mirkwood in only 4 days. Mirkwood is a BIG forest and a more accurate estimation would be 20 days on foot, and 3 days on horseback. But I hope you will understand that for dramatic purposes I decided to keep it to 4 days on foot despite the fact that I absolutely HATE inaccuracies, so please bear with me.  
  
**A/N**: Since we basically know nothing about Legolas' family (except Thranduil), I dare claim total ownership over Mîrdolen (name and personality) and any other siblings/relatives I may introduce to this story.  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Ten...  
  
Hey, aren't you happy? No cliffy this time! Well, not a real cliffy... But anyway, don't forget the creature is still around and that they're now going to Mirkwood, bringing it along!  
I already started writing the next chapter, so it should be ready soon!! And I promise, it will be much more lighthearted! (well, some parts of it anyway...)  
  
And in the meantime, I'd loooooove to have plenty, plenty, plenty of reviews!!!!!  
  
**Next chapter**: "_Homecoming_" (or delving into Mirkwood's royal family...)(Hmm, Mirkwood... ;-) 


	12. Homecoming

**A/N:** New chapter at last!! I'm terribly sorry for the delay and thanks to all of you great reviewers who supported me these last weeks, especially **eck**, **val** and **dragonfly32** who had the misfortune to review after I had a particular rant... (I won't get into details for those of you who were lucky enough to not know about it) I love you guys!  
  
This chapter is somewhat shorter than the last ones. This is because chapters 11 and 12 were supposed to be one, but since it kinda got out of hand and much too long I decided to split the chapter in two. Chapter 12 is already written and beta'd, so I should post it within a couple of days as soon as I have finished editing it, so come back soon to check!  
  
Now, answers to reviews!  
  
**eck**: I believe most of the questions you had after reading chapter 10 will be answered after reading chapter 11... And thanks for posting your review for chapter 9 again! BTW, yes, it would seem suspicious it would just leave... Besides, it had a *plan*, hadn't it? *g* As for the too short Aragorn scene, you might be right and I will think about writing more when I revise this story (which should happen very soon). Now about the 'technical error', after your remark I tried doing it myself (I'm a very conscientious woman *g*). I laid on my back on the ground, arms behind my back as if the wrists were tied together (and you were right to assume they were in the story, I thought I had written it somewhere but I'll remember to add that too when I revise this story), and tried to come back to a sitting position. And I had honestly no problem doing so, without helping myself up with my arms. I don't think I'm an alien or something but... I dunno...  
  
Dear readers, let's make this story interactive! While laying flat on your back with your arms behind your back, can you sit straight up without the help of your arms? Write the results of this experiment in your next review!  
  
**val**: Thanks for your review! I hope this will not be the last I get from you! ;-)  
  
**dragonfly32**: Thanks to you too! And the same that val applies to you as well! Besides, knowing if Gimli will be ok... Hmm... You'll have to wait a little while to have the answer to that one!  
  
**TheImmortalIris** aka BlueTopaz: Glad to see you back! BTW, ff.net put numbers after the names to make sure 2 users no longer had the exact same names, and they gave the no number version to those that registered first. And I'm glad I didn't get a number on my name!  
  
As always, millions of thanks to **Candice** who always do an amazing job when betaing this story!  
  
All right, let's go on with the next chapter!  
  


** Chapter Eleven  
Homecoming  
  
**

Cindra awoke feeling rather sore and disoriented, sorer than when, while being no more than a child, she had accompanied her father on a long journey onto the violent seas laying north of Norea.  
  
All she could tell about her actual situation was that she was lying on something soft. She slowly opened her eyes as she felt a diffuse heat pass over her aching shoulder. A comforting heat.  
  
Her vision was blurred but by turning her head slightly she managed to make out the silhouette of someone standing right beside her, long blonde hair framing a pale face.  
  
When she tried to get up a hand landed on her forehead and gently pushed her head back on the pillow.  
  
"My name is Dínendal," a soft voice said, "and I am King Thranduil's Head Healer. You are in the process of being healed. All will be fine now."  
  
Strangely calmed by the smooth voice she relaxed and closed her eyes again before slowly drifting back to sleep, immediately forgetting the last few seconds as if they were no more than a dream.  
  


*****

Gimli looked up as they reached the high stone doors that guarded the entrance to the city of Mirkwood's Silvan Elves. Two more days had been required to get to the north-eastern part of the forest. While the end of the journey had unrolled with no noticeable incident, Gimli suspected that the group of Elves that had 'welcomed' them as soon as they reached Mirkwood had been secretly following and escorting their party - he had almost seen one of them earlier that day, no more than a swift shadow moving in the thick woods - and that the quiet of their travel might be due to their presence.  
  
Whether they were keeping an eye on them or only ensuring their Prince reached his destination safely he could not tell. While never travelling those lands he had heard much about them and the dangers they harboured thus encountering none seemed highly improbable.  
  
Gimli grew sure of the presence of an Elven escort when in the middle of the previous night all were woken by a beastly cry close by which ended abruptly and never to be heard again.  
  
However what Gimli feared most was not one or many of the famous spiders of Mirkwood but no other than King Thranduil.  
  
As far as he knew Thranduil did not think highly of Dwarves or Men. But Aragorn had been there before, and now as the King of Gondor he and his men would be welcome in his palace. Gimli felt however, that his own welcome might be more questionable.  
  
And as he watched the magical doors open slowly and soundlessly in front of their company, his doubts renewed.  
  
Little did he know that Legolas' thoughts had led him to similar thinking. He knew his father well, and an Elf's grudges - especially that Elf's grudges - could be held long.  
  
While not being over amiable when Aragorn came to Mirkwood with Gollum, Thranduil had not thrown him out, assuming the new King of Gondor and his men would be greeted as any guests was not too much of a stretch.  
  
Neither was Thranduil uncaring when it came to the wounded - the Battle of the Last Alliance taught that lesson to the Mirkwood Elves, at least - thus Legolas was confident Cindra would have been healed as soon as she arrived. Especially since Mîrdolen, Legolas' older brother and second son to the King, was the one to carry her there.  
  
Surely the presence of a Dwarf among their company would be counterweighted by his own presence, Legolas hoped.  
  
"Come, my friends," he eventually told his companions once the doors were fully open, "and follow me into the city of the Elves of Mirkwood."  
  
All his four companions stepped forward, following Legolas behind the fortified walls. They soon stopped while the gates closed behind them as they immediately saw King Thranduil walking in their direction. Right behind him were Mîrdolen and an older Elf that Legolas immediately identified as Séregon, his father's adviser.  
  
Thranduil was moving with an Elvish grace and a kingly stature, long blonde hair cascading upon his shoulders. Legolas noticed that he was wearing his full courtly attire, which meant he was about to welcome them as the ruler of this land.  
  
Once Thranduil stood in front of them he spoke in Westron, his voice as clear as crystal. "I have been notified of your impending arrival. I am glad to see you reached these lands safely."  
  
Legolas knew the words to be no more than a diplomatic greeting. The worst was still to come. However what pained him most was that not once had his father cast him a look. This boded no good. Was he angry with him? Did he resent him for bringing a Dwarf into his kingdom?  
  
Despite the fact that behind Thranduil, Mîrdolen was sending Legolas a confident look, he still did not understand. Why was his father not looking at him? He had been away for many years now, had taken part in several adventurous journeys, risking his very life and his father would not look at him.  
  
Thranduil turned his attention to Aragorn.  
  
"King Elessar, it is my pleasure to greet you here with your men," he said.  
  
"Pleasure shared, King Thranduil," Aragorn replied with a bow.  
  
Look at me. Come on, look at me… Legolas found himself craving for his father's attention, a look, a gesture, anything that would indicate he had at least noticed his presence. Anything that would indicate Thranduil was glad his son was home for *he* was glad to be home.  
  
The coldness in Thranduil's eyes as they rested on Gimli, the Dwarf had expected as much as dreaded, as well as the words the Elven King spoke next.  
  
"Dwarves have never been welcome here," Thranduil said dryly.  
  
Legolas shivered. No, he would not dare. He would not deny Gimli his hospitality. He would not. If he did though, Legolas would leave with Gimli at once no matter what his father threatened him with.  
  
From the corner of his eyes he noticed Gimli clenching his fists and Aragorn tensing. Elven archers on the fortifications stood still, waiting for their King's instructions.  
  
"But my son's friends are," Thranduil concluded.  
  
Legolas instantly let go a silent sigh of relief while Gimli unclenched his fists and Aragorn relaxed.  
  
"You will be my guest as long as you wish to remain in my kingdom, Gimli son of Glóin," Thranduil added.  
  
A bit bewildered at first at seeing the Elf knew his identity, Gimli diplomatically answered with a bow, "I am truly honoured, King Thranduil."  
  
At last, Thranduil turned his attention to Legolas.  
  
Along the centuries Legolas had learnt to tell when Thranduil was to be considered his Lord and when he was to be considered his father. And at the moment the older Elf in front of him was undoubtedly his Liege.  
  
"Legolas."  
  
"My Lord," he answered cautiously with a rapid bow.  
  
Legolas watched as Thranduil's features slowly softened, as his father's - no longer his Lord's - eyes filled with love and affection while a soft smile crept upon his face.  
  
After those last weeks of tension, among which several days of torment under the yoke of the creature, all he wished at that very moment was to let himself go and take his father in his arms. But he knew Thranduil would not allow it, not publicly at least and not in front of guests nor in front of half his people.  
  
Whether Thranduil saw the gleam in his eyes and interpreted it correctly, Legolas would never know. All he *did* know the next instant was that Thranduil took one step forward and pulled his son in his arms.  
  
Legolas suddenly found himself feeling like an Elfling again, tightly held as he was in his father's embrace. He immediately returned the hug and wrapped his arms around Thranduil.  
  
"Mae govannen bar, ion nîn," Thranduil whispered at his son's ear. (A/N: "_Welcome home, my son._")  
  
Legolas closed his eyes, fighting back the tears as he answered, his voice slightly catching in his throat, "Cormamin lindua ele lle, ada." (A/N: "_My heart sings to see thee, Father._")  
  


*****

  
  
Thranduil gestured towards the chairs encircling the table of the council's room.  
  
"Please have a seat," he told his three guests - Aragorn's men had been dismissed and allowed to go rest - while he eased himself into the chair at the head of the table and Mîrdolen in the one on his left.  
  
Legolas sat on Thranduil's right, Gimli next to him, and Aragorn on the other side of the table, next to Mîrdolen.  
  
"I am afraid Mîrdolen was not able to provide much information concerning the circumstances of your coming," Thranduil said.  
  
"We were in a bit of a haste," Legolas explained, "for that young woman we carried was badly poisoned and required immediate healing."  
  
Thranduil nodded. "According to what Dínendal told me, she was indeed badly poisoned. Hopefully she is out of danger now, though still unconscious. You should be able to visit her as soon as she wakes."  
  
All seemed glad to hear that news.   
  
"Now will you please tell me what brings you here, for I suppose you did not come only to visit me," Thranduil added, his eyes laying on Legolas.  
  
The younger Elf suddenly felt extremely embarrassed, though he made his best not to show it. He knew that he would not be there if chance had not led them to Mirkwood, and that he would have probably delayed his return home a bit longer.  
  
It was Aragorn who answered the Elven King. "Two boats from Norea arrived on the Gondorean shores."  
  
Mîrdolen and Thranduil simultaneously arched an eyebrow in a very similar way, which brought an involuntary smile upon Gimli's lips. The Dwarf now had no more doubts about Mîrdolen being a relative of Legolas - and a brother at that he guessed.  
  
"Aboard them were four Noreans," Aragorn continued. "One was controlled by some evil creature able to possess anyone and greedy for power. The other three came to warn us of its coming. I immediately set off with a group of men and the three Noreans to try to stop that creature. Legolas and Gimli volunteered to accompany us. That poisoned young woman we sent you is one of those Noreans. The other two were killed during the journey."  
  
Thranduil noticed his youngest son flinch slightly at that.  
  
"A Norean," Thranduil said. "Interesting… I thought their existence to be no more than a legend of Men. But I guess they would normally not venture as far as Mirkwood, which would be why I cannot remember any being here before." He paused. "Then I believe you followed the possessed man this way."  
  
"He *did* head north but was killed by Orcs," Aragorn rectified. "I believe the creature switched to one of the Orcs for when we encountered them in our turn, it…" he hesitated, "switched to Legolas."  
  
Thranduil immediately turned to his youngest son. "Is that true?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.  
  
"It is all right now," Legolas assured, "it only lasted a few days, thanks to Gimli for it is he who noticed and freed me from the creature."  
  
For the first time since he had greeted him, Thranduil looked at Gimli. The Dwarf had noticed the Elven King had up till then deliberately avoided glancing at him but he did not care - it was probably better that way. He soon regretted being ignored by Thranduil for the King's gaze was a heavy one.  
  
"Then I believe I owe you all my gratitude, Master Dwarf," Thranduil eventually said.  
  
Gimli gave a short nod. "It was the least I could do, King Thranduil."  
  
Thranduil nodded back and then turned to Legolas. "We will hold a celebration to let our people rejoice at the return of their youngest Prince…"  
  
Legolas shook his head and spoke quickly with embarrassment. "It will not be necessary, I - "  
  
Thranduil interrupted him with a movement of his hand, indicating he had not finished. "Furthermore, rarely have I had so many renowned guests under my roof and their presence should be celebrated as well."  
  
While Legolas meekly agreed with a nod, Thranduil went on.  
  
"Despite the fact that my own son did not give me any news," as Thranduil said that, said son felt the tip of his ears redden while the other son smiled broadly, "we got word of the exploits of the members of the Fellowship. While we were rather busy here on our own during the War of the Ring, Mirkwood is not a land so remote that we did not hear about the Quest." He paused. "We will wait for that young Norean to recover before holding it so that she can -"  
  
Thranduil was interrupted as an Elf suddenly burst into the room. He was in full armour, slightly dusty as if he just arrived from a horse ride.  
  
"Hîr nîn, bedim - " he began but stopped as he noticed the presence of guests - he had obviously expected to find his King alone. (A/N: "_My Lord, we went - _")   
  
"Faelernil," Thranduil greeted, "I did not expect you back so soon. Did anything go ill?" Noticing the other Elf was staring intently at Legolas and did not seem about to answer, he added, "As you can see, your youngest brother is back and brought some friends with him."  
  
Faelernil briefly gazed at Aragorn then at Gimli, much longer this time. The Dwarf suddenly felt uncomfortable, even more than when it had been Thranduil watching him. He instantly decided he liked Legolas' other brother much more. Faelernil then looked back at Legolas, even longer than he had Gimli. If the older Elf was glad to see his brother he was doing a good job hiding it - along with any kind of emotion.  
  
Faelernil eventually turned to his father. "I bring news from west Mirkwood and I need to speak with you."  
  
There was no need for him to add 'alone' since Thranduil immediately understood. The Elven King turned to his guests.  
  
"I believe you must all be tired by your long journey and could do with some rest. Rooms have been arranged for you all since we knew how many you would be." He then turned to his second son. "Mîrdolen, will you please show our guests their rooms? Legolas, I suppose you still remember where yours are."  
  
Mîrdolen nodded and they all took their leave of Thranduil.  
  


*****

When Cindra slowly opened her eyes, the intricate engravings on the ceiling above caught her attention. The sight of those leaves delicately carved, intertwined to form graceful larger patterns, was most hypnotic.  
  
She slightly shifted so as her head was more comfortably laying on the pillow.  
  
Wait. Ceiling? Pillow??  
  
She sat bolt upright but surprised by the sudden subsequent dizziness laid both her hands on the bed - a bed? - for support.  
  
An Elf maid soon noticed her movement and walked to her bedside, a warm smile on her face.  
  
"Ah, I see you are awake already," the Elf said. "Your friends will be most pleased to learn that."  
  
Cindra hesitated while the Elf gently pushed her back on the bed.  
  
"You are not fully healed yet and still need rest," the maid insisted.  
  
"Pardon me, but what is this place?" Cindra asked cautiously.  
  
The Elf looked stunned at the question. "This is the House of Healing of King Thranduil of course," she answered as if it should have been obvious.  
  
Giving a quick look around Cindra noticed for the first time the presence of other beds in the room, much like her own. Several of them were occupied. The Norean stared back at the Elf for a few seconds. King Thranduil… The name did ring a bell, she knew she had heard it before though she could not tell when.  
  
"Who?" she eventually dared asking.  
  
As she had expected, the maid looked utterly shocked. "I am afraid your memories must have suffered much if you do not remember who King Thranduil is," the maiden said, worriedly checking her forehead for a fever.  
  
"And… And when did I - "  
  
"Hush, child, no more questions!" the Elf gently instructed. "You should rest now! Worry not, your friends will be allowed to visit you soon."  
  
With those words the maid turned round to give her attention to other patients.  
  
Child?  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas gave a circular look across his rooms. Nothing had changed or moved since he had last been there. The same green and silver colours, the same hangings, the same paintings, the same bows, arrows and knives - all worn former weapons of his - hung on the walls. Not the thinnest layer of dust, he noticed as he absentmindedly laid a hand on a wooden piece of furniture.  
  
It had been only a few years, an insignificant instant compared to an Elf's lifetime, but he had changed so much in that short time that they felt like a whole Age.  
  
His eyes rested on one of the bows hanging on the walls. A longbow - his first. The one he acquired his first archery skills with. Many memories were tied to that object that Gimli might call a 'mere piece of wood with a string', and some surfaced when his hand hovered over the handle, tenderly caressing the wood like one would a lover.  
  
Instinctively his fingers closed around the handle and he took the bow down. It seemed lighter and smaller than it used to be - of course, it was an Elfling's training bow, so unlike the war bows he had used ever since. He quickly tested the string, his fingers wrapping around the area in its middle worn out by thousands of arrows shot - it was still good.  
  
He picked a random arrow on the display, his thumb checking the feathers. They were frayed and would no longer allow accurate aiming. Without really thinking he notched the arrow, his forefinger and middle finger on each side of the tip, pulling the string until his phalanxes reached that familiar spot below his cheekbone while aiming at nothing in particular.  
  
A knock on the open door brought him out of his reverie. He turned round abruptly, forgetting he was holding a fully armed weapon and now pointing it at his visitor.  
  
Standing on the doorstep, Gimli took a surprised step back.  
  
Legolas immediately lowered the bow. "Please forgive me, my friend," he apologised. "I was not expecting anyone."  
  
"Is that an Elvish custom to greet unexpected guests in arms?" Gimli retorted, an eyebrow cocked. "For if it is so I should have listened more carefully to what my father told me about Elves."  
  
"And what is it exactly your father told you about Elves?" Legolas enquired as he put both bow and arrow back on the display.  
  
Gimli shrugged. "I believe it was basically along the lines of never trusting an Elf, though I have to admit that I forged my own opinions along the years."  
  
Legolas would have smiled at his friend if Gimli had not immediately added teasingly, "As I discovered, Elves can be trusted every once in a while for simple tasks such as keeping a fire going for the night..."  
  
Legolas gave him a fake upset look.  
  
"You might want to watch your words more closely, Master Dwarf," the Elf said. "This is an Elven city, and as you might know Elven ears are keen. My kin may not be as indulgent as I am..."  
  
Gimli took it for what it was: half a jest and half a warning. Aye, the Elves of Mirkwood would be more suspicious and wary of him...  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Eleven...  
  
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And, like I said, chapter 12 will be up very soon! This one will be greatly influenced by the unexpected come back of my comedy muse. I hope it will be as fun to read as it was to write.  
  
But in the meantime... *evil grin* Tell me what you think so far of what I did of (or is it to? *eg*) the Mirkwood Royal family! I'd love to hear your opinion about that, especially since they'll all be largely featured in chapter 12...   
  
**Next chapter**: "_Some Stories are Better Left Untold_" 


	13. Some Stories are Better Left Untold

**A/N:** And here is chapter 12!   
  
Besides, I don't think I said it before, but Faelernil and Mîrdolen names are all mine. I really racked my brain to find them (because yes, their names actually mean something). Their personnalities are aaaall mine as well. I don't want to sound possessive, but I really worked on them so if you'd like to use them in a story, please ask.  
  
Also, does any of you know how to get rid of a rather nasty plot bunny? Because one has been chewing on my leg ever since I wrote a particular part of this chapter and wouldn't let go.  
  
BTW, I'd love to see if any of you can spot that plot bunny... That could be interesting...  
  
Now a few answers to reviews:  
  
**dragonfly32**: I'm glad you liked the way I wrote Thranduil, I hate it too when he's portrayed as evil. But Faelernil is not nasty. He's just, er... older and wiser? Well, older that's for sure, but wiser... *g* Anyway you'll hear more about Legolas' brothers in this chapter.  
  
**SpaceVixenX**: Well I'm glad you enjoy this story! But I'm far from being done with it and still have plenty of things to write about! ;-)  
  
I would also like to thank **Candice** again, because I really can't thank her enough.  
  


**Chapter Twelve  
Some Stories are Better Left Untold**

  
  
Cindra smiled broadly as her former travelling companions entered Mirkwood's House of Healing. She propped herself up on her elbows to greet them.  
  
"It is a pleasure to see you well," Aragorn spoke up. "Have you fully recovered yet?"  
  
"I believe I have, thanks to those healers," Cindra replied. "Actually I have not felt so well in a long time."  
  
"I am delighted to hear that," Aragorn answered.  
  
"It is my Lord's wish to hold a celebration soon," Legolas told her. "Dínendal, the Head Healer, informed us that you would be able to leave the House of Healing no sooner than later today. Hence my Lord decided the celebration would be held tomorrow night. You are of course invited to this event."  
  
Cindra nodded. "It will be a pleasure. I also cannot wait to visit this place."  
  
An Elf maid walked closer. "I beg your pardon gentlemen," she said, "but this lady still needs some rest. I will have to ask you to shorten your visit."  
  
All complied immediately and left the House of Healing. However Niyan briefly insisted that the Elf maid allowed him to stay at Cindra's bedside but was promptly shut out by said Elf maid.  
  


*****

  
  
That little game Mîrdolen was playing was indeed very entertaining, Gimli thought. A bit cruel for the other two interlocutors, but certainly entertaining. The celebration had been going on for several hours already and he found he enjoyed the Elf's company almost as much as Legolas'. He had not spoken much among his conversation group, composed of Mîrdolen, Niyan, Cindra and himself, but the Elf was creating enough trouble on his own.  
  
The Dwarf watched, concealing his amusement the best he could, while Niyan clumsily complimented Cindra. The young woman stared at the warrior for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening - her unease in the dress Elf maidens had given her was obvious - and before she could reply anything Mîrdolen interrupted her and changed the subject. Again. And obviously intentionally.  
  
"So, how far exactly is Norea from Middle-earth's shores?" Mîrdolen enquired innocently.  
  
Gimli smiled as Cindra alternately looked at the Man and the Elf, probably trying to figure who to answer first. She seemed to choose Mîrdolen for she answered:  
  
"I could not tell exactly in terms of distance since that trip is seldom taken, but it is quite close to Aman if that information can be of any help to you."  
  
"Do you still suffer from your wound?" Niyan wondered worriedly.  
  
"No, no I - "  
  
"And how long is a journey here?" Mîrdolen interrupted again.  
  
"It, er… Quite long, several weeks…" Cindra stuttered.  
  
Before Niyan had a chance to say anything else, Mîrdolen asked, "That is fantastic. But how do you - "  
  
Gimli did not listen to the new question - he had had enough of them. He gave a quick look around and soon spotted Legolas at the other side of the Dining Hall, talking to some Elves the Dwarf did not know and wearing an unnatural smile. Not far away were Thranduil and Aragorn, along with Faelernil and his spouse. If Aragorn's frown was any indication, they were in the middle of a very serious discussion.  
  
His attention switched back to Legolas as some noble Elves took their leave of his friend. Somehow the archer seemed kind of relieved.  
  
There was a lull in conversation so Gimli took the opportunity to speak. "If you will excuse me, there is someone I need to talk to."  
  
The others nodded as he left and walked towards Legolas.  
  
"Hail, Legolas."  
  
"Suilad, Gimli. What brings you to this side of the room?"   
  
"To be honest, I was wondering why you looked less than happy while this celebration is held in your honour. You used to be more cheerful at other festivities."  
  
"Mind you, I *am* happy," Legolas retorted.  
  
"But…?" Gimli guessed.  
  
"But this celebration is different," the Elf stated.  
  
Gimli understood what he meant right before he thought of asking how different it could be. They were in Mirkwood now, among his peers. He was no longer just Legolas. He was Prince Legolas, King Thranduil's son, standing stiffer than he used to, wearing a green and silver tunic embroidered with the Royal family's arms.  
  
And as far as Gimli could tell, Legolas was not comfortable with being Prince Legolas. No wonder he usually never brought his title up.  
  
"I understand," the Dwarf eventually said, "but you need not - "  
  
"Legolas," Faelernil called as he walked along, only casting a quick disdainful look at Gimli before acting as if the Dwarf did not even exist.  
  
Gimli coughed lightly to remind him of his presence but was politely ignored by the older Elf.  
  
"Faelernil…" Legolas greeted back, hiding rather efficiently his lack of enthusiasm.  
  
"I am afraid I did not have the time to talk to you until now, but I wanted to tell you I am glad to see you back, little one."  
  
Legolas' slight flinch at the nickname was not lost on Gimli. Interesting, he thought. He might have to remember that one - one could never tell when knowing how to annoy an Elf could prove useful… The Dwarf repressed a mischievous smile. Instead he coughed again - he hated being ignored.  
  
"I am glad to see you too, Faelernil," Legolas replied almost convincingly.  
  
"A lot has happened here these last years but I am sure our Lord will soon tell you all about it," assured Faelernil.  
  
"I have no doubt he will," came the reply.   
  
Gimli decided it was high time to cough again, a bit louder this time. A gleam of annoyance briefly shone in Faelernil's eyes but the Elf kept looking at his younger brother.  
  
"I will leave you for now, for you might want to check on your… friend's health," Faelernil finally said, hesitating on the word 'friend' and still pointedly ignoring Gimli, before turning round and leaving them.  
  
Gimli snorted. "Do you reckon he realised he was interrupting a conversation? And I care not if he can still hear me."  
  
Legolas smiled. "I am sure he did. But he probably considered a discussion with a Dwarf had to be unimportant."  
  
"Of course," Gimli agreed. "Dwarves are always talking about gems, caves or gold-mining, are we not?"  
  
Legolas slightly tilted his head as if pondering that statement. "Aye, I believe that is an accurate summary."  
  
Gimli decided not to cast Legolas a dark look - some Elves around might take it at face value. "It is a wonder to see brothers behave so differently. You and Mîrdolen are much more light-hearted than your oldest brother."  
  
"Faelernil is the Heir," Legolas explained. "He has always had more responsibilities and duties and was brought up accordingly. On the other hand, our Lord was... more lax with my and Mîrdolen's education."  
  
"I always thought Thranduil and 'lax' did not mix well," Gimli teased.  
  
"You would be surprised…" Legolas retorted with a mysterious smile. His eyes lay on the cup the Dwarf was holding. "Enjoying the wine so far?"  
  
"Certainly, though I have tasted much better before."  
  
Legolas did not pick the judgement out. "How do my folk behave around you?" he queried cautiously.  
  
Gimli shrugged. "I was only stared at by a couple of Elves."  
  
"And what did you do then? Nothing too rude I hope?" Legolas asked, knowing his friend had certainly done something in return.  
  
"I just stared back until they stopped staring," the Dwarf answered innocently. "I have to admit though that I am surprised I got no more than cold looks from your kin. I suspect it had to do with Thranduil's speech at the beginning of the celebration stating that everyone there was his guest."  
  
"My Lord might be uncomfortable with your presence but accepts you as my friend," Legolas replied. "I bet Faelernil does not approve but he or any other Elf will not object as long as our Lord allows your being there. As for Mîrdolen, I believe he does not really mind."  
  
"Talking of Mîrdolen, you should come over and join our discussion group," Gimli offered. "It should get most entertaining in a minute."  
  
"How so?" Legolas enquired.  
  
"Well, Niyan is, I believe, making attempts at wooing Cindra and should get politely rejected very soon - I am afraid the poor lad ignores an important piece of information concerning the real nature of Cindra's and Ederis' relationship and that her grief is still too fresh. Hence I presume Cindra will soon have to state things more clearly since till now she has not been very successful at subtly having Niyan understand. Meanwhile, Mîrdolen is joyfully spoiling the poor man's tries by keeping interrupting him."  
  
"Sounds fun. You are right I should come along. I do not feel like enduring another session of greetings from Elves I barely know."  
  
Legolas followed Gimli back to where Mîrdolen, Niyan and Cindra were still talking. Mîrdolen turned to his younger brother as Legolas stood next to him.  
  
"I see you finally decided to join us," the older Elf stated with a warm smile.  
  
"I was too eager to know why on Middle-earth you were patrolling the south borders yourself," Legolas replied mischievously.  
  
"Well, you know how much our Lord likes not to be wearied," his brother said.  
  
"I also know how much you like to weary people, especially our Lord…" Legolas remarked.  
  
"Then I believe I need not to tell any details," Mîrdolen assumed.  
  
"On the contrary, I would love to hear about that," Legolas objected.  
  
"I would not want to waste your precious time with such trivialities," Mîrdolen retorted.  
  
"What I do of my 'precious' time is my concern," the younger Elf replied, "so will you please tell me what you did exactly?"  
  
Gimli smiled. Now he understood better why Legolas was so good at their verbal jousts - he had had centuries to train with his older brother.  
  
Assuming the two Elves might go on for ages, Cindra interrupted, "please excuse me my Lords, but my recovery from my wound left me a bit spent. Hence if you do not mind I will now take my leave of you and return to my rooms to rest."  
  
"Shall I walk you back to your rooms?" Niyan volunteered.  
  
The young woman hesitated, wondering how to put it. "Thank you for the offer but that will not be necessary."  
  
"Said you not earlier that you almost got lost while wandering through the corridors?" Mîrdolen noted. "It would be wiser if someone accompanied you back to your rooms."  
  
Cindra gave the Elf her darkest look while he gave her his most disarming smile.  
  
"I guess you might be right," she replied reluctantly before leaving with no further word, Niyan in tow.  
  
"So, about those patrols…" Legolas insisted.  
  
"If you really wish to know, we needed someone of trust and high skills there."  
  
"Oh. Who was sent then?" the archer teased.  
  
"As you might guess, certainly not our dear brother," Mîrdolen answered.  
  
The two brothers burst out laughing. Both Elves were rather entertaining separately, but together they put on quite a show, Gimli mused. The Dwarf briefly wondered if it was how he and Legolas appeared during one of their 'arguments'.  
  
The pair went on for a little while, Mîrdolen never revealing the truth behind his assignment and Legolas never giving up, until they were joined by Aragorn.   
  
"Gentlemen," the former Ranger greeted with a nod.  
  
"King Elessar, it is a pleasure to see you join us," Mîrdolen welcomed. "Where have you been tonight?"  
  
"I have been talking with King Thranduil. It seems he has received many reports of an abnormal Orc activity at the west of Mirkwood."  
  
"At the west?" Legolas wondered. "There is nothing to seek at the west."  
  
"That is what puzzles us most," confirmed Mîrdolen. "It looks like they are gathering."  
  
"Gathering?" Legolas shook his head. "That cannot be good."  
  
"I see the years have not impaired your smart little self…" Mîrdolen teased. "However, now is not the time to worry about those Orcs."  
  
"Especially since you were sent to the south while the real troubles lay in the west," Legolas teased back.  
  
"Our Lord is getting old, his assignment decisions no longer make much sense," his brother retorted.  
  
Aragorn cast a questioning look at Gimli but the Dwarf only smiled at him and shrugged, obviously amused by the situation.  
  
"I bet it is Faelernil who was sent to patrol the western borders," Legolas went on.  
  
"Well, he has always loved to draw attention to himself, has he not?" Mîrdolen answered.  
  
"Actually as far as I can remember it was more likely you," Legolas corrected. "You have a thing with getting into trouble with our Lord."  
  
"What could possibly allow you to suggest that?" the older Elf said with a fake indignant tone.  
  
"Do you really wish me to relate those stories while so many guests could hear?" Legolas asked, indicating the assembly of Elves all over the Dining Hall with a tilt of his head.  
  
"First, I would rather tell them myself than have you do it since you would probably turn them at your advantage," Mîrdolen stated while his younger brother cocked an eyebrow. "Second, you are right about people around being able to overhear. Mayhap we could take this conversation to a more private place. May I offer you all to join me in my rooms?" he asked to the Man, Dwarf and Elf. "I keep some wine there, there should be enough to last all night. That is, if those gentlemen can stand Mirkwood's finest wine…" Mîrdolen finished, mischievously looking alternately at Aragorn and Gimli, while Legolas already nodded his agreement to come.  
  
"That is an offer one cannot refuse," Aragorn said with a smile.  
  
When Mîrdolen turned to Gimli, waiting for his answer, the Dwarf replied with assurance, "I will stand anything you will put in my glass."  
  
Mîrdolen cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Let us have a try, shall we?"  
  


*****

  
  
"And he came calling, 'MÎRDOLEN!!'", the older Elf recounted, mimicking his father's tone. "'Will you ever grow up!'", he finished and all four of them burst out laughing. "I think I never saw him that angry… Except maybe that one time about the incident in the cellar… Do you remember, Legolas?" Mîrdolen concluded with a mischievous smile.  
  
"It is still painfully engraved on my memory, especially the punishment…" Legolas winced. "He thought I was the one responsible for it and I got punished in your place."  
  
The other Elf snorted. "You had not even gone halfway through the punishment, Mother relieved you while she never did such thing for me."  
  
"She had guessed I was not to blame," shrugged Legolas.  
  
"No, you have always been Mother's favourite," Mîrdolen retorted, no hint of jealousy or resentment in his voice, "her little one…"   
  
During the awkward silent pause that followed, Gimli was sure he felt the mood slightly falling. However the ever cheerful Mîrdolen soon brightened up:  
  
"There is also that one story involving Legolas and that fair maiden, what was her name? Legolas?"  
  
Legolas suddenly blushed furiously and took Mîrdolen's glass of wine away from its owner. "I think you have already drunk more than is reasonable, Mîrdolen," he finally said.  
  
"Have I?" the older Elf teased.  
  
"Most certainly," Legolas stated. "Moreover it is already extremely late and I suggest we call it a day."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "Legolas is right, it is very late and we need some rest. Therefore if you would excuse me, I will return to my rooms at once as well."  
  
Mîrdolen walked his guests back to his door and in a minute Aragorn and Legolas both left, leaving behind them a Dwarf and an Elf alone in the dark corridor.  
  
As for Gimli he dawdled, looking at Mîrdolen waiting on the doorstep. He soon asked with curiosity, "so what about that maiden?"  
  
Mîrdolen burst out laughing and wrapped an arm around Gimli's shoulders, bringing him back inside. "Come, Master Dwarf, the end of the night has not to be lost for all…"  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli stood on tiptoe to reach the tray, refilled his plate before sitting again.  
  
Legolas could not help but smile. "I see that while you claimed Mirkwood's wine was not much to your liking, Mirkwood's food is."  
  
"That is not exactly what I would call a decent breakfast, but I will go for what I have handy."  
  
Aragorn smiled but new better than to intervene - it would get out of hand soon enough.  
  
Legolas snorted. "'Handy' hardly seems a fitting word seeing how much trouble you have to reach the salver."  
  
"Out of respect for your long-legged selves," Gimli began, bowing quickly to Legolas, Aragorn, Mîrdolen and to a distant Faelernil - who did not even watch, "I decided not to chop the table's legs to make it more reachable."  
  
"How considerate of you, Master Dwarf," Mîrdolen jested.  
  
Faelernil, sitting alone at the other end of the long table and desperately trying to read some parchment while eating, would have rolled his eyes with annoyance had he had a little less control over his display of emotions. Instead he only let go a long and silent sigh.  
  
"Aye, indeed. How considerate of me," Gimli concluded. The Dwarf looked thoughtful for a second until an amused gleam lit his eyes. "However, if that can be any comfort to you Legolas, I think that silver tray is beautiful."  
  
Legolas turned to stare at his friend and blinked twice. A silver tray. Beautiful. Granted the silverwork was exquisite, but getting a compliment from a Dwarf used to handle gold and gems probably hid something.  
  
"Actually I think that is the most beautiful silver tray I have ever seen," Gimli went on.  
  
Maybe his friend had drunk too much wine the night before, Legolas mused - after all they had *all* drunk too much wine the night before. Turning to Aragorn the Elf saw that the former Ranger was mirroring his flustered expression while next to him Mîrdolen was smiling as if in anticipation. A bright red light suddenly flashed in Legolas' mind as he turned back to Gimli - he did not like that gleam in the Dwarf's eyes.  
  
"Somehow it reminds me of a bird fallen from its nest," Gimli continued. "It is wounded and can only flutter its wings helplessly; its feathers are ruffled and it looks utterly lost." Gimli paused dramatically. "But in a good way, since it can still sing beautifully."  
  
Aragorn barely held back his laughter when he realised what it was the Dwarf might be talking about, especially when he saw the way Legolas' face had suddenly fallen - obviously the storytelling had not totally stopped when he and the archer had left Mîrdolen's rooms.  
  
Legolas' eyes had first widened and then he had cast a furious look at his brother while Gimli finished. Mîrdolen shrugged, wearing an almost angelic expression on his face.  
  
"You," Legolas menaced the older Elf on a playful tone, "will pay for that."  
  
"Who will pay for what and to whom?" Thranduil's voice echoed as the King of Mirkwood entered the room.  
  
All immediately froze like children caught red-handed - except Legolas who had the presence of mind to sheepishly withdraw his accusing finger, Aragorn who was too amused to hide his growing smile, and Faelernil who was already stiff enough.  
  
"It has been a long time since my sons were last all gathered under the same roof, and it is a rare pleasure," Thranduil went on. "It would grieve me to see them spend their time squabbling." The Elf's gaze hovered over his sons but remained mainly on Mîrdolen as if he guessed where the trouble came from.  
  
After a long pause Thranduil sat somewhere near Faelernil and asked something to his oldest son in Elvish. Both Legolas and Aragorn pricked up their ears to listen but Mîrdolen seemed to be already aware of what was being said.  
  
Meanwhile Gimli frowned and closed his eyes before slowly massaging his temples.  
  
Legolas switched his attention back to the Dwarf. "Are you all right?" he asked with a hint of worry in his voice.  
  
Gimli shook his head. "Worry not my friend, it is merely a headache that has been taunting me for a couple of days."  
  
"Why did you not tell me about it earlier?" Aragorn intervened. "I could have given you something to ease the pain."  
  
"I need no draught. It will be gone soon enough," Gimli claimed, wondering up to which point he believed his own words. His headache had done naught but increase along the last few days, and the wine the day before had only helped to briefly ease it a bit. Maybe should he take it more into consideration?  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Twelve...  
  
I know. I'm evil. But the chapter was so light-hearted I *had* to write something evil at the end.  
  
Anyway, did you spot that plot bunny I told you about? Please let me know in a review. I don't want to leave you hanging if you didn't spot it, but it's about that thing Gimli was told by Mîrdolen and that the Dwarf uses to tease Legolas in the last scene. After writing that I can't help but picture a very young Legolas trying to woo an Elf lady but saying all the wrong things because he asked his way too michievous older brother for help... I'm seriously considering writing a one chapter independant fic about that, so I'd like to know if you'd like me to.  
  
Pleeeeease tell me in a review!   
  
**Next chapter**: "_A turn of events_" (back to angst! yay! And if you hate me because of the end of chapter 12 you're going to want me dead by the end of chapter 13... So prepare your death threats!) 


	14. A Turn of Events

**A/N:** Tadaaa! Here comes chapter 13!   
  
This is the one at the end of which you're supposed to want to kill me. But that could apply to chapter 14 as well (the chapter is already written and being beta'd). Actually maybe more to chapter 14. Oh well, you'll see by yourselves... *eg*  
  
Now, answers to reviews:  
  
**TheImmortalIris**: No worry, I will write that plot bunny. It looks like you readers would like to see it, and I'd like to write it too... So I've begun to outline it. It will take some time though. Besides, you're absolutely right. If you killed me you would never know what would happen next. So I guess you'll all have to bear with me and keep me alive *g*   
  
**dragonfly32**: As I just said, the plot bunny *will* be written! Yay! Oh, and you're right. Don't think about the cliffie. But fear the next one. *eg*   
  
**SpaceVixenX**: I'm glad you liked the way I described Mirkwood's royal family. I thought a lot about the characters development before writing those chapters. And there'll be much more development in chapter 14, so look forward to it!   
  
**eck**: Your reviews are getting longer and longer, do you know that? But please don't stop, I love them! Anyway, no worry for reviewing late - a late review is still a review. I love them all the same. And sorry for your test on the first day of school. It never happened to me but it would really have sucked.  
  
I loved writing the Legolas/Thranduil scene in chapter 12, and I'm really glad you liked it. And about yours/your's. Well, I'm pretty sure it's yours... (plural of your) I checked in the dictionnary just in case, but it is... Oh, and I really wish I could draw too. There are several scenes I'd love to be able to draw.  
  
Now about Niyan's infatuation: nope, it's not the first hint... Well, since I love subtle hints so much I began hinting at it since chapter 6 or 7, while I knew they were so subtle no one would notice them unless they read the whole story again, knowing what was going to happen...  
  
And about Thranduil keeping his sanity while his sons were growing up there's one easy solution: send one south, another west and the other north. Why do you think Mîrdolen was patrolling in the south while Faelernil was in the west? Because Thranduil needed some calm and peace *g*  
  
How many chapters left? I have no idea. Between 5 and 10 I'd say, but I can't tell exactly. While the story is almost fully outlined, I haven't established yet how I will make it fit into chapters.   
  
**LegolasLover2003**: Welcome on board! Hope you're having fun! BTW, are you *sure* all will be well in the end? After all those chapters, you're convinced I wouldn't write an evil ending? Do you know that when someone tells me to do something I have a tendency to do the opposite? *eg*   
  
I would also like to thank my beta **Candice**. Betaing a long story like this one is hard and tedious, and she's really doing an awesome job.  
  


**Chapter Thirteen  
A Turn of Events**

  
  
Elves should not suffer from headaches, Legolas thought as he walked down one of Mirkwood's place corridor. No wonder Gimli experienced one as well after all they had drunk the night before.  
  
A guard came up to him. "My Prince, the King requests your presence."  
  
Legolas nodded. "And when exactly will our meeting be appointed?"  
  
"As soon as you can as our Lord wishes," the guard replied.  
  
"Will now be soon enough?" Legolas asked.  
  
"It will, my Prince." With a quick bow the guard left.  
  
Legolas did not feel very comfortable with having a discussion with his father just yet, especially if it was for one of which he and his brothers had come to call the Talks. They usually boded no good and were to be dreaded - Thranduil did not find time in his busy schedule to have a private talk with one of his sons for no good reason.  
  
However Legolas had quite an accurate idea about what this one Talk would be about - and his headache was not really helping him being ready for it.  
  


*****

  
  
Thranduil looked up from the stack of scrolls on his desk when Legolas lightly knocked on the already open door of his father's office.  
  
"Ah, Legolas. I am glad you could come so quickly." The King gestured his son to come closer. "Come, have a sit."  
  
Legolas complied and a few seconds later he was sitting in front of his father's impassive face. Thranduil intertwined his fingers and propped his chin on the back of his hands, narrowing his eyes to study his son.  
  
Oh. So it was going to be one of *those* talks. Thranduil would look at him for a moment while he would rack his brain to remember all the things he had done wrong lately, then wonder how many of those Thranduil would have heard of; he would try to think of good excuses but Thranduil would soon make clear that he already knew all about it.  
  
But this time Legolas knew he had nothing to reproach himself with, on the contrary. He bore his eyes into his father's scrutinizing ones. Well maybe there was that couple of things he would not brag about.  
  
How in Eru's name did he manage to do that? Bring an expression of guilt on his son's face and make him feel uncomfortable just by looking at him?  
  
"Did you want to talk to me about something in particular?" Legolas asked hoping to reverse the situation.  
  
"Yes," Thranduil said. "I would like you to tell me more about what happened during the journey from Gondor to Mirkwood."  
  
"King Elessar already told you all that was to tell," Legolas replied.  
  
"I am sure King Elessar told me everything he thought to be relevant," the older Elf retorted. "However is there anything you would like to add to his recount of events?"  
  
Legolas slightly shook his head. "No."  
  
"Those two other Noreans that accompanied you during the journey, for example. How did they die?" his father insisted.  
  
Once more, Legolas' slight flinch at the mention of the two Noreans was not lost on Thranduil.  
  
"Why would you want to know such an irrelevant piece of information?" Legolas answered back. While he tremendously enjoyed verbal jousts with either Gimli or Mîrdolen, Thranduil was as well versed in that art as they were and beating about the bush with the King of Mirkwood was not a safe game. Plus this conversation was not exactly following the way Legolas had expected it to.  
  
"Just answer my question," Thranduil replied calmly, leaning back in his seat.  
  
"They were killed by Orcs," Legolas lied swallowing uneasily.  
  
Thranduil shook his head. "You have always been a poor liar, Legolas."  
  
No, Legolas thought, he could be an excellent liar. But never when facing the King of Mirkwood.  
  
"Legolas," Thranduil went on, "I am no fool. I can tell there is something wrong and while I know you have friends to help you ease yourself of whatever burden you carry, they obviously did not succeed yet."  
  
Ah, there they were, Legolas thought. Right back on track.  
  
His tone was slightly angry when he spoke. "If you are implying in any way that my choice of friends is unwise - "  
  
Thranduil interrupted him and his voice rose to cover his son's. "I am not implying such nonsense. All I want to know is what is troubling you about the fate of those Noreans."  
  
Legolas was caught off guards. While it was the way this conversation had followed he had still not expected that. He had expected his father to tell him how foolish he had been to befriend mortals. He had expected him to ask why in the Valar's name he had befriended Gimli. And while he struggled to find his words a set of raw emotions came all at once flowing to his brain.  
  
"Well, for one I killed one of them while possessed by the creature," Legolas eventually said, "and I have begun to think I might have killed the other as well." He looked up to his father. "I saw my hands tighten around the neck of that man that had been all but kind to me. I saw his pain in his face and felt his heartbeats stop under the pressure of my fingers. I was still holding him when he died." Legolas paused and averted his gaze. "Cindra is still alive but if it were not for Gimli I would have killed her as well. While possessed by this creature I shared its thoughts of power and death as if they were my own. I thought of killing all my friends, one by one. Valar, I even thought of killing you…"  
  
Thranduil arched an eyebrow but remained silent. His eyes were locked on his son's face, cringing at the hint of despair he detected in the younger Elf's words.  
  
"Cindra was poisoned because of me," Legolas added, still not looking at his father. "After being freed from the creature I did not pay enough attention and did not hear an Orc coming. Had we not been so close to Mirkwood she would have died as well." Legolas paused once more and took a long and trembling breath. "Besides ever since I met those Noreans my sea longing has increased to a point it had never reached before. While possessed by the creature it was hindered but is now unleashed again and I have seriously begun to consider crossing the Great Sea. But being back here with all those I care for reminds me of everything I would loose were I to do so."  
  
Legolas raised his eyes now full of tears to meet his father's. "Now is that what you wanted to hear?" he demanded harshly.  
  
Thranduil remained silent for a long while, slightly taken aback by this long and hearty declaration. "I would be lying if I said I expected you to tell me so much," he eventually said.  
  
They both stayed silent for a very long time. Legolas had looked away again but Thranduil's eyes remained on his son.  
  
"Well if being here makes you feel so ill-at-ease you could still leave once you - "  
  
"That is not what I meant," Legolas interrupted, a hint of exasperation in his voice.  
  
"I know exactly what you meant," Thranduil countered. "But you will have to face those ghosts that haunt you sooner or later, either by facing them like a Prince or flee from them like a coward."  
  
"I will not flee from them," Legolas stated with vigour. "I never did so and never will."  
  
"Then face them," Thranduil replied calmly. "I am afraid not much can be done about your sea-longing but your guilt for what you did while possessed by this creature can be dealt with very easily."  
  
Legolas sighed loudly and, looking down, whispered almost inaudibly. "How?"  
  
"You have to convince yourself you are not guilty, no matter how strongly you believe you are," Thranduil assured. "If you think yourself accountable, then seek redemption. Ask for forgiveness."  
  
"How could I, they are dead," Legolas stated bitterly, the word echoing in his head. Dead. Irreversibly gone. And because of him.  
  
"Not all of them," Thranduil reminded him.  
  
Legolas' head jerked up to look at his father. Cindra, he thought. Cindra was still alive - and not thanks to him. He had almost killed her. But he *had* killed her father. Her father… Legolas stared at his. Was he suggesting that he -   
  
"Legolas," Thranduil spoke up. "Talk to her," he said as if reading his mind. "You will feel better. Talk to her," he repeated, adding the Kingly look that stated it was not an advice but an order.  
  
Legolas nodded reluctantly and, assuming it was the end of that Talk, stood up.  
  
"Now," Thranduil went on, "about your friends chosen so unwisely as you put it…"  
  
Legolas instantly sat back. He just *knew* that could not have been ignored.  
  
"Aye, what about my friends?" he asked.  
  
Thranduil sighed audibly, which was very unlike him.  
  
"Do you think I made bad choices?" Legolas asked almost angrily.  
  
"I am no fortune teller, my son. Time only will tell," Thranduil replied, surprising Legolas in many ways - that was not the answer he had expected. Thranduil went on, "I can give you advice but in the end the choices are yours to make. Whether you follow them is up to you."  
  
"But you do not approve my decisions," Legolas assumed.  
  
"I warned you countless times about that. I cannot deny your friends are good ones - I can see they are dear to you and you to them. But they are mortals. Their lives are short."  
  
"Short but lively," Legolas argued. "More lively that any Elf could claim his to be."  
  
"I still believe you were too young to befriend them. When I see how you grieve the death of some that were not even close to you… I cannot help but worry about you." A frown appeared on the King of Mirkwood's brow. "You will suffer a lot when they eventually pass away since you are too young to know how to deal with it."  
  
Legolas did not want to think about his friends deaths. He had always thought about it as something that would not happen before a long time - but it would eventually.  
  
And hearing Thranduil talking about his so called youth reminded him of Faelernil - the latter had the ill tendency to talk to him like to an Elfling.  
  
"Now, here is another piece of advice," Thranduil went on. "This will be the last I give to you in that regards." The older Elf paused, studying his attentive son's face. "You mentioned you sea-longing. Then cross the Great Sea before you loose them."  
  
Legolas firmly shook his head. "Crossing the Great Sea would mean loosing them."  
  
"It would only be choosing the lesser of two evils," Thranduil retorted.  
  
"I cannot abandon them," Legolas stated. "I remember vividly how it felt when Mother left and I do not wish that to them."  
  
"The choice your mother had to make was quite different from yours," explained Thranduil.  
  
"I know," Legolas whispered.  
  
"Then I suppose your choice is made and was long before today," Thranduil said, his tone a mix of worry and disappointment.  
  
His son nodded.  
  
"All right," Thranduil added with resignation, nodding as well. "I believe I will just have to keep worrying about you, then," he said with a wry smile.  
  
"Probably," Legolas smiled back. "But you would have worried either way."  
  
"Maybe," Thranduil agreed. "Now you should go and have that talk with that young Norean. This morning she clearly expressed to me her wish to go back to her homeland as soon as it would be possible, hence she should leave Mirkwood in no more than a couple of days."  
  
Legolas nodded and stood up. As he walked to the door he paused and turned back to his father. "Thank you," he said softly.  
  
"You are welcome," Thranduil replied. "Oh, one last thing," he went on as if he just remembered something. "If you see Mîrdolen, could you tell him to please give up with that little plan of his involving some of the kitchen servants? It is most irritating."  
  
Legolas smiled and left.  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli walked idly through the shelves of Mirkwood's library. Well after all maybe Wood Elves *were* educated. Most certainly did not act like they were, Gimli thought with a low chuckle - he would have to remember to tease Legolas about that. How could they act so uneducated while they owned such a large library, he began planning until he recognised the familiar frame of the King of Gondor sitting at a table and bent over a scroll with a quill in his hand.  
  
The Dwarf walked to his friend's side. "Aragorn?"  
  
The former Ranger looked up from his parchment. "Oh, Gimli!" he exclaimed with a smile. "I am sending a message to Minas Tirith to let them know about how the situation evolved," he went on indicating the scroll.  
  
"And to let Arwen know that you are still alive and in one piece, I suppose," Gimli said knowingly.  
  
"Probably," Aragorn replied, his smile deepening. "Is your headache any better?" he inquired, hoping that the pain reliever he had insisted Gimli to drink had worked.  
  
"Much better," Gimli lied, "thanks." He did not want anyone to worry about his well-being, especially when he was surrounded by Wood Elves that would, no doubt, love to see him confess a weakness. And if he was honest with himself, the headache had done nothing but increase during the morning. As if on purpose, a new wave of throbbing washed through his brains, his pain only betrayed by a quick blink.  
  
"Then I suppose you came here to have a look at those wonderful books," Aragorn assumed. "Most of those were transferred here from Lothlórien when Lady Galadriel and her people left," he added on an informal tone.  
  
"Not exactly," Gimli replied, not wanting to admit that in fact he got lost and arrived there by chance - those endless corridors were more confusing than the most complex underground cave he had seen.  
  
"I will now let you finish your letter," Gimli eventually added, suddenly aching to leave and be alone to deal with his persistent headache.  
  
Aragorn nodded and resumed his writing.  
  
Gimli turned round and almost trotted outside. Once he was there and away from prying eyes he leant back on the wall, bringing a hand to his temple and trying to rub the pain out of his head.  
  
Maybe he just needed some rest - after all, those last weeks had been most exhausting, both physically and mentally. Aye, some rest, he thought while hurrying in what he hoped to be the direction of his rooms.  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas soon found Cindra in the gardens of the palace, sitting alone on a bench. She was nervously fidgeting something between her fingers and staring at it intently. It was only when the object caught the light that Legolas saw that it was a ring.  
  
The last time he had seen someone do something similar it had been a Hobbit and the ring had been one of power - and the memory was not the sweetest one.  
  
As he walked closer he recognised the ring - he remembered that Crireth had worn it. That was probably the thing she had taken from her father once he was -  
  
Legolas took a deep breath and walked closer. "Hail, Cindra," he spoke up.  
  
The young woman looked up and noticed him for the first time. Hurriedly she put the ring on her thumb while Legolas remembered Crireth wearing it on his middle finger - the ring was too large for her.  
  
"I heard you were planning to leave very soon," he went on, sitting by her side on the bench.  
  
"Aye," she nodded. "Something occurred to me recently. With both my father and my older brothers gone… I guess that makes me the new chief of my clan…" she concluded with a bitter smile before shaking her head sadly. "That was never meant to happen… I mean, I… I had two older brothers…"  
  
Legolas nodded knowingly. He knew exactly what that was like - he had two older brothers as well. "Aye. The Heir and the Spare…" The thought of what Mîrdolen's reaction might be if he heard him referring to him as the 'Spare' brought an involuntary smile upon his lips.  
  
"Of course you know about that…" she said when she eventually understood that Legolas was in the same situation.  
  
He was indeed. It was very unlikely he would ever become King of Mirkwood, he thought, and that knowledge kind of relieved him - being a Prince of Mirkwood was already more than he wanted to be and very often had he wished he were not one.  
  
But there was still that thin eventuality… No more thin than Cindra's chances were considering the evils that lurked in Mirkwood…  
  
"And with Qeladon gone as well…" Cindra went on when he remained silent and shook her head again. "I have no idea what I am supposed to do…"  
  
"I am sure you will handle your clan very well," Legolas assured.  
  
She made a sound that suggested that she highly doubted this statement. "I have also pondered something else. What if that creature was not the only one of its kind? We do not even know how we got rid of that one exactly, and if another rises in Norea…"  
  
"You could have a look in the books of the library before leaving. There are some ancient writings and there may be something about that creature," Legolas suggested.  
  
"Maybe," she said, unsure. "I might have a look then, but I am afraid I do not speak any Elven language and will not be able to understand much."  
  
"I am sure one of the librarians would not mind translating for you," Legolas replied.  
  
During the next minute an awkward silence settled, Cindra having nothing to add and Legolas not really wanting to go through what he had come there for. He eventually plucked up courage.  
  
"There…" He paused. "There is something I need to tell you."  
  
Cindra turned a gaze filled with curiosity on him.  
  
"I… I am sorry for everything I did," Legolas muttered, looking down at his feet.  
  
Contrary to what he had expected, Cindra only frowned.  
  
"Everything you did?" she asked with a quizzical look. "I am afraid I do not understand what you are referring to."  
  
"I was the one who killed your father while possessed by the creature," he admitted with guilt.  
  
She blinked a couple of times at him in silence.  
  
"I do not understand why you would need to apologise for that," she eventually replied. "I personally certainly do not hold you liable for it. I know not how it feels like to be possessed by this creature but I have seen enough to know that no one can be held responsible for the acts he did while under its control."  
  
"It is also my fault if you got poisoned and almost died," Legolas added.  
  
Once more she did not have the reaction he had expected her to have since her puzzled gaze became an amused one - and it was Legolas' turn to look puzzled.  
  
"If someone should feel guilty about that I suppose it should be the Orc that held the poisoned blade, should it not?" she stated.  
  
"I suppose, but had I not - "  
  
"You cannot blame yourself for all the sins of Middle-earth," she interrupted with a slight shake of her head. "So unless you would like to tell me you are also responsible for my broken ankle when I was ten," she went on, her smile broadening, "I think we can clearly state that you are liable for none of all this."  
  
Legolas could not help but smile as well. "I guess you are right," he surrendered, feeling that a weight was no longer burdening his shoulders while Thranduil's words echoed in his mind. You will feel better, he had said. And he had to admit he did, he thought with a content sigh.  
  
Right before standing up to take his leave, he suddenly remembered something and remained sitting.  
  
"Before I… Before it killed Crireth… He talked about you," he said.  
  
Cindra's smile instantly faded and she gravely looked at him expectantly.  
  
"He wanted me to tell you something," Legolas went on.  
  
He now had the young woman's full attention.  
  
Legolas took a deep breath. "He was unfortunately not given the time to finish his sentence and say something significant."  
  
He could almost have heard the thread of her hope snap as clearly as he had seen said hope suddenly disappear from her eyes. As her eyes began to fill with tears she immediately turned away from him but her ragged breaths betrayed her emotions.  
  
"I thought you might want to know his last words were for you," Legolas added.  
  
She stiffly nodded in-between budding sobs.  
  
He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry."  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli immediately shut the door behind him as soon as he was in.  
  
Damn those Elves who did not seem to know that the shortest way between two points was a straight line and not an intricate pattern of corridors that all looked alike.  
  
With each step his headache had intensified and he had begun to fear he would not manage to get back here on his own, which would have forced him to seek the help of one of those Elves passing by.  
  
He dropped himself into the closest chair, quite sure he would not have enough strength to reach the bed.  
  
What was happening? Why was he suddenly feeling so weak? So drained of his stamina? What was wrong with him?  
  
A soft whisper echoed in his mind, seductive, luring. Enticing.  
  
Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Now he was beginning to hear voices as well. That was it, he was going crazy…  
  
He started to doubt when something dark began to cloud his mind. He suddenly had a bad presentiment. He should have thought about that possibility before. Maybe all had not gone that smoothly with the creature. What if -  
  
That was when he abruptly lost control.  
  


*****

"Mîrdolen!" Legolas hailed his brother further down the corridor.  
  
The older Elf stopped, turned round and smiled. "Legolas? What is going on?"  
  
"Our Lord wanted me to tell you that he was aware of your plan involving the kitchen servants," Legolas repeated what Thranduil had said as he caught up with his brother and walked along the corridor with him.  
  
"Which one?" Mîrdolen inquired, his tone innocent but mirth glittering in his eyes.  
  
Legolas smiled. "He would like you to stop for he finds it irritating."  
  
"Of course he finds it irritating. What would be the point otherwise?" Mîrdolen smiled back.  
  
"Have you seen Gimli lately by chance?" Legolas queried. "I was hoping to find him in his rooms but they were empty."  
  
Mîrdolen shook his head. "I have not. But maybe you should try the dungeons."  
  
Legolas stared at his brother until the latter shrugged.  
  
"You have to admit that Dwarves crossing Mirkwood have a tendency to end up down there," Mîrdolen said with a mischievous smile.  
  
They burst out laughing at that statement.  
  
But their smiles faded as they rounded a turn in the corridor. On the ground in front of them lay an Elf. His throat was slit and blood pooled on the ground.  
  
Legolas and Mîrdolen immediately ran to his side to check for vital signs, but to no avail. It was already too late.  
  
The Elf was dead.  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Thirteen...  
  
So, who wants to kill me? Please take a ticket and get in line... *g*  
  
But you should wait until next chapter, it'll get worse.  
  
Come on, yell at me and send your death threats in a review!   
  
**Next chapter**: "_On the loose_" 


	15. On the Loose

**A/N:** And here is a new chapter! Chapter 14 is a bit short compared to my latest chapters, but it's full of tension and I hope you'll like it anyway.  
  
**Good news**: (well, good for you probably) In a week I'll be on holid- I mean I'll be unemployed, so I'll have much more time to write this story (and the independant plot bunny that goes with it...). The remaining of the story is now almost completely outlined, and as I said in previous chapter there should be 5 to 10 chapters left (but more likely 10 - maybe even more - I think).   
  
Now a few answers to reviews:  
  
**LegolasLover2003**: No need to use your bow. But beware, I'm an archer myself too... About character death, since I'm trying to stay as close to canon as possible, I sincerely doubt that will happen in this story. Well, who am I kidding? This is my story and I know what's going to happen... But don't worry. That still leaves a large span of other possible things to do to them. *eg*   
  
**westielab**: Well, I didn't specifically say I *wanted* death threats, it's just I wouldn't have been surprised to recieve some... But I loved yours nevertheless!   
  
**Niani**: Hmm...Have Gimli threaten Legolas... You *do* know you shouldn't give me ideas like those, don't you? Anyway, the whole story is already outlined, so if that happens, don't worry, it won't be because you suggested it... It would be because I evilly planed it all along... *eg*   
  
**SpaceVixenX**: I'm glad you liked the father/son scene. I enjoyed writing it. But now we're back to angst... *eg*   
  
**dragonfly32**: I will take the "wicked authoress" comment as a compliment... ;-) And about the Elves "going to go bananas", first let me tell you that you're the winner of my secret "who will teach Morphea a new english expression?" contest, and second you will find out the Elves reaction in this chapter...   
  
Thanks again to my beta **Candice**, who's still doing an incredible job. I sincerely hope I manage to end this story before you leave.   
  


**Chapter Fourteen  
On the loose**

  
  
Legolas, still bent over the inert form of the Elf, looked up at Mîrdolen. The older Elf's face was mirroring his own confusion. How could something like this happen inside the walls of Mirkwood?  
  
"How did..." His voice trailed off.  
  
Mîrdolen shook his head. "I have no idea..." As the tip of his fingers touched the still warm flesh of the dead Elf, Mîrdolen spoke up. "It happened not long ago."  
  
"I shall go warn our Lord," Legolas said and immediately stood to his feet.  
  
His brother nodded and watched him turn around the corner.  
  
A mere second later he heard Legolas' steps suddenly stop as the archer took in a sharp breath and muttered: "Oh Elbereth..."  
  
Mîrdolen got up at once and followed his younger brother, only to find him a few yards away. He paled as he saw what had stopped Legolas.  
  
"Oh Elbereth..." he whispered as well.  
  
There was another Elf, lying dead on the floor in the middle of a pool of his own blood. The length and depth of the cut made it pointless to check for any vital signs. Legolas scanned the corridor, hoping to find a clue as to what happened, but found none. His confusion was slowly replaced by fear.  
  
There was _something_ inside Mirkwood's palace.   
  
"Could a spider have - " Legolas began.  
  
Mîrdolen firmly shook his head. "None ever managed to get inside. And one would never use a blade to kill."  
  
"We have to warn our Lord at once," Legolas stated and they both immediately hurried to their father's office.  
  


*****

  
  
Thranduil's fingers were drumming angrily on the wood of the council room's table. His gaze examined one by one the persons around. His three sons; Séregon, his advisor; the four captains of the different companies guarding the palace; the King of Gondor for his guest had wanted to be kept informed on what was going on. Legolas had also insisted to include Gimli in the discussions but the latter could not be found.  
  
Thranduil stared insistently at his captains. He was fuming when he spoke up. "I cannot believe that five Elves were killed throughout the palace and no one noticed anything was amiss before the bodies were found."  
  
One of the captains mustered enough courage to speak up despite his Lord's rage. "My King, the sentinels are positive, nothing crept inside."  
  
"Obviously the sentinels must have failed in their duty," Thranduil spat back. How could this have happened? He knew his Elves to be good warriors and imagining that they managed to let something inside was making him mad.  
  
"Not necessarily, my Lord."   
  
Thranduil turned his attention to his Heir.  
  
"The threat could be coming from inside," Faelernil went on.  
  
Thranduil eyed his son thoughtfully. "Explain yourself."  
  
"I am sure that it came to your attention that someone who has been invited to this council is conveniently missing and nowhere to be found. Someone belonging to a race that have for long held grudges against the Elves of Mirkwood," Faelernil went on, ignoring the glare Legolas was casting him.  
  
"Are you suggesting that one of my guests is responsible for those deaths?" Thranduil enquired.  
  
"I am, for many clues are pointing to that conclusion. First, the victims were caught unaware and tried not to defend themselves. Which can only mean they thought their killer to be a friend," Faelernil explained, pointedly looking at Legolas when saying the word 'friend'.  
  
Had Legolas not been so busy trying to keep his wrath at his oldest brother under control he might have noticed his father casting him a look.  
  
"Second," Faelernil went on, "a weapon was used, which excludes the possibility of a spider or any other evil beast of Mirkwood. Third, judging from the wounds they were made with an axe, a weapon very scarcely used among Elves..." He paused. "It seems clear to me that the Dwarf we allowed within our walls is the one responsible for all this waste..."  
  
Legolas could hold it no longer. "Gimli would never do that!" he claimed, springing to his feet.  
  
He barely felt Aragorn's hand on his shoulder trying to bring him back to his chair or heard the former Ranger's words whispered at his ears. "Calm down, Legolas."  
  
But Legolas ignored him and remained standing, directing all his ire at Faelernil.  
  
"By the Valar, Legolas, did that Dwarf make you blind?" Faelernil asked. "Can you not see the obvious?"  
  
"How dare you call me blind after jumping to hasty conclusions yourself, blinded by your own resentment?" Legolas spat.  
  
Faelernil stood up at once, now to eye level with his youngest brother, anger sparkling in his eyes. For a second Aragorn was grateful a table was standing between the two of them.  
  
The older Elf's tone increased as he spoke. "Your pathetic friendship with that Dwarf has clouded your mind for you cannot see what a traitor he is being, killing your own kin!"  
  
"He is no traitor!" Legolas exclaimed, indignant. "And his name is Gimli!"  
  
"_ENOUGH_!!" Thranduil yelled, slamming his hands on the table while jumping to his feet. The room instantly fell silent. "Now the two of you sit down. _NOW_!!" he roared.  
  
Legolas and Faelernil eventually complied, though reluctantly and their gazes kept sending daggers to one another.  
  
Thranduil took a few seconds to let go a heavy sigh before speaking calmly. "Faelernil, I would like you to not accuse anyone before we had a chance to confront him," he said to his oldest son before turning to his youngest one. "Legolas, I understand your reluctance to admit it but all those clues point in Gimli's direction." He then looked at everyone. "It looks like Gimli is our main suspect but we cannot exclude any possibilities. Hence we will actively search him but remain on our guard - the threat could come from somewhere else. This is why to make sure it does not escape, the main doors will remain closed until we find the origin of the trouble. No one will get in or out."  
  
Séregon, Thranduil's advisor, cleared his throat. "My Lord, what about the Orcs gathering in the West? We were to send a company later today. If we do not deal with them early enough they will become much more threatening. I would not be surprised if they were planning an attack on the palace."   
  
"All in good time, Séregon," Thranduil replied. "Our present problem could well be solved in a matter of hours. We still have a few days ahead of us to deal with those Orcs."  
  
Séregon nodded but seemed worried nevertheless.  
  
"All right. Faelernil," Thranduil went on, turning to his Heir, "I entrust you with the organisation of the search. Make sure all is done smoothly."  
  
The younger Elf nodded.  
  
Thranduil gave a circular look. "Council dismissed."  
  
In a rumble of chairs being pushed back everyone left the council room save Thranduil, who sat back in his chair and put his head between his hands.  
  
Why did the Valar not grant him three daughters?  
  


*****

  
  
Aragorn lengthened his pace to catch up with Legolas.  
  
"Legolas. Legolas!" he called, forcing Legolas to turn round as he laid a hand on the Elf's shoulder.  
  
When the Elf was facing him at last he saw that anger was still shining brightly in his eyes. Aragorn knew Elves were not prone to violent outbursts of emotions. But he also knew that for most there were touchy subjects that should not be evoked, and friends were one for Legolas.  
  
"Look," he began, "while I cannot tell why he is missing I know as well as you do that Gimli would not do that."  
  
"Maybe he was attacked by whatever killed those Elves," Legolas suggested with a hint of worry in his voice. "It could have stolen his axe."  
  
"That is why we have to find him. Whatever happened to him, whether it is linked to those Elves death or not, his being nowhere to be found is extremely odd."  
  
When Legolas' eyes trailed from his face to Faelernil who was standing at some distance talking to his men Aragorn called again. "Legolas..."  
  
The Elf switched his attention back to the former Ranger.  
  
"In the meantime I suggest you keep a low profile..."  
  
But he had already lost his friend's attention again for Legolas began striding toward Faelernil, listening closely to what his brother was instructing his men.  
  
"... so as soon as you see him I want you to bring him down. Do not let him get close to you."  
  
"What do you think you are doing?" Legolas hissed behind him.  
  
Faelernil turned round, surprised to see his brother there. "Making sure your so-called friend does not kill any more of us," he replied.  
  
"He did *not* kill anyone," Legolas retorted between gritted teeth.  
  
"That remains to be proven," Faelernil snapped.  
  
"As much as his alleged guilt," Legolas emphasized. "Besides, is that your concept of 'smoothly'? Kill at first sight?"  
  
Faelernil remained silent for a second, staring at his brother. "Now that everyone is warned that he is not welcome anymore they will not let themselves be killed thinking he is no threat," he said blankly.  
  
"I will not let you do what you have in mind," Legolas claimed, one of his hands clenching unconsciously around the handle of one of his Elven knives at his belt.  
  
Faelernil sneered. "And what are you going to do? Kill your own brother to protect a foe?" He cockily stepped forward until he was only inches from Legolas. "Come on. Go ahead," he whispered.  
  
Legolas really looked like he was about to kill him and for a second Aragorn even feared he would - that feral look in the Elf's eyes was frightening. It obviously alarmed Mîrdolen as well for he had joined Aragorn closer to the scene, a concerned look on his face.  
  
When Legolas did not move Faelernil took one step back. "You changed a lot, Legolas," he murmured. "But not for the better I am afraid." With those last words he turned back toward his men.  
  
Before Legolas could follow him Mîrdolen put an arm around his younger brother's shoulders and led him away, back to where Aragorn was. "Legolas, calm down. Killing him would do no good, and not only because that would make me the Heir - Eru knows no one wants that, including me."  
  
He almost managed to get a smile from his brother.  
  
"I am sure you know Gimli better than anyone but you have to admit the circumstances of what happened are troubling. And, as much as I hate admitting it, Faelernil is right." When Legolas glared at him Mîrdolen rolled his eyes. "*Not* the shooting Gimli part," he added.  
  
"We must find him. Before *he* does," Legolas said casting a side look at Faelernil.  
  
"We will," Aragorn promised. "Where shall we start?"  
  
Faelernil's eyes followed them as they left. His gaze then became faraway for a few seconds, a thoughtful frown on his brow. He eventually let go a long sigh before looking up to his men.  
  
"New instructions, gentlemen. When you find the Dwarf, make your best effort to capture him alive. Kill him only as a last resort, if he has a threatening behaviour," he concluded, casting a last look towards where his brothers had disappeared.  
  


*****

  
  
Thranduil walked up the corridor that led to his office. When he saw its door already open wide he knew something was wrong. He entered the room slowly and cautiously. It was with a deep shock that he discovered Gimli, serenely sitting at Thranduil's desk, his feet on the table, his arms crossed over his chest and a defiant smile on his lips.  
  
Thranduil stared at him callously, setting his jaw.  
  
"Master Dwarf, I have no idea how you managed to get in here without being arrested on your way, but I hope you have an excellent explanation to your suspicious absence today," he said extremely coldly.  
  
"Of course I have," Gimli replied with a smirk. "If you would just come closer I will tell you all about it."  
  
----------------------------------  
End of Chapter Fourteen...  
  
So, what do you think about it? New evil ending? Well, what can I say, I love them... Chapter 15 is already written and being beta'd, so it should come soon. Chapter 16 is fully outlined and some of chapter 17 is as well. The more I write of this story, the more I want to write!   
  
**Next chapter**: "_Nowhere to be found_" 


	16. Nowhere to be Found

**A/N** Here comes chapter fifteen! Sorry for the delay, I've been a bit busy lately. Here are some answers to reviews first:  
  
**Dragonfly32**: All right, they *did* go 'bananas'. And don't be too hard with Faelernil, he's had a bad day. And about the cliffies, I still have plenty of them in store... *evil laugh*  
  
**Niani**: I'm glad you can wait... I hope the wait wasn't too long... But here is a new chapter with a new cliffy! Weeee!   
  
**LegolasLover2003**: Don't worry about Legolas angst... There should be enough angst for him to share with others... *eg*   
  
And again big thanks to my beta **Candice**. It's really great working with you.   
  


**Chapter Fifteen  
Nowhere to be found**

  
  
  
If this was not hell, it was as close to it as Gimli could imagine. He felt like a puppet in the hands of a psychotic puppeteer. Was this how it had felt for Legolas? Seeing what was happening around but unable to control any of it? Committing one of the worst atrocities he could ever imagine?  
  
Gimli shuddered at the thought of it. As soon as he had approached the first Elven guard he had known what the creature was about to do. He had fought against it but had been violently pushed away. He had tried to look away, to close his eyes when the inevitable happened, but to no avail: those were *his* eyes, firmly set on those dying Elves…  
  
It was like witnessing a murder from the inside, from the murderer's point of view. So unlike what one could experience on a battlefield. On a battlefield you fought to save your life and the ones of those on your side, not merely to take someone's life. Those Elves deaths were unfair and unwarranted. Useless losses.  
  
Thinking he could have vanquished that creature so easily had been incredibly presumptuous of him. He should have been more careful. But how could he have guessed it was able to remain lurking in him with no more than a headache to betray its presence? He should have. They knew nothing about the abilities of that creature and hence should have assumed the worst.  
  
But it was too late to feel sorry for his stupidity. Five Elves were dead and he was now facing the King of Mirkwood who was quite bewildered to find the Dwarf in his office.  
  
Gimli knew what the creature had on its mind and how terrible the consequences could be if it managed to fulfil its plans. A vision of war and chaos, not that different from his memories of the War of the Ring itself, engulfed his mind at the prospect.  
  
He had to put an end to all this quickly. He could not allow that creature to become so dangerous and powerful, even if he had to give his life to stop it. Was it the solution? Kill himself while still possessed by the creature? It could be; Qeladon had suggested that the death of the host could kill the creature as well. But there was no certitude and no way to know for sure. Unless he tried…  
  
He had to act before the creature did. Maybe if he could reach his axe on the desk… Gimli concentrated and took advantage of the creature's distraction while it was talking to Thranduil to regain a slight control over his right arm and reach out for his axe. But it soon realised what he was doing and before he could touch his weapon he was abruptly yanked back, a wave of pain invading his mind.  
  
"Do not even try, you stupid Dwarf," it hissed, and for a second Gimli wondered whether it had said it aloud or just talked in his mind.  
  


*****

  
  
Thranduil stared at the Dwarf disbelievingly. How did he manage to get here? Almost every single guard in the palace was looking for him. Yet he was here, in *his* office, sitting in *his* chair and at *his* desk. The Dwarf even had the nerve to ask him with a smile to step forward.  
  
Thranduil replied distrustfully, not moving an inch, "Why would I come closer? So that you can kill me as well?"  
  
"No," Gimli assured with a smirk, "I have other plans for you."  
  
Other plans? What plans was he talking about? Thranduil's eyes fell on the Dwarven axe on his desk. There was also some rope next to it. What was on his mind if he was not planning to kill him? Take him prisoner? In any case he was certainly not there to discuss diplomatic issues between the Dwarves of Erebor and the Elves of Mirkwood.  
  
"I will be no easy prey," Thranduil stated.  
  
"I expected no less," Gimli replied calmly.  
  
Gimli then did something very strange. While still looking at him defiantly his right hand slowly crept towards his axe, shakily and hesitantly, as if fighting against an invisible force. Thranduil observed him closely, ready to fight back would the Dwarf attack him.  
  
But Gimli had a sudden and unexpected reaction: he abruptly pulled his hand back and hissed, his face contorted with an indescribable emotion, "Do not even try, you stupid Dwarf."  
  
Thranduil took the opportunity to draw his knife from its sheathe at his belt, keeping his hand behind his back to hide the weapon from Gimli. But what was the Dwarf doing? He had regained his temper after his outburst and strange behaviour, and was now looking at Thranduil again.  
  
The King of Mirkwood looked back at him thoughtfully. Such a strange behaviour… It had been as if…  
  
As if he was possessed. The creature, Thranduil immediately concluded. He had not heard all the details of what happened during Legolas' and his companion's journey but enough to be able to tell it was most probably right there, in front of him.  
  
His fingers fidgeted the handle of the blade behind his back. He could not kill Gimli. The real Gimli was there somewhere, controlled by that creature, no more responsible for his acts than his son had been for his.  
  
His eyes fell on the rope on his desk again. Maybe he could turn the situation to his advantage and take Gimli prisoner. No matter how good a warrior Gimli was, he was a Dwarf while he, Thranduil, was an Elf with thousands of years of experience. Thranduil was confident that in a one on one fight he would have the upper hand.  
  
Thranduil decided to step forward, which widened the smile on the Dwarf's lips.  
  
"I see we have made up our mind," Gimli said.  
  
"I know what you are," Thranduil stated when he stood in front of the desk, still clutching his knife behind his back.  
  
"Really?" Gimli teased.  
  
When in a swift movement the Dwarf held out his hand to pick up his axe, unhesitant this time, Thranduil was quicker and drove his blade in the desk's wood, interrupting the move. His eyes never left Gimli's face but with an accuracy only an Elf was capable of he had just managed to drive the knife right between the Dwarf's forefinger and middle finger during his move, preventing him going any further.  
  
The Dwarf's eyes darted to the knife and his hand still in the air, until he grinned and looked back to Thranduil.  
  
The King of Mirkwood arched an eyebrow, staring at Gimli with challenge, but the Dwarf was still smiling at him.  
  
"You do not want to hurt him," he noticed, "really touching… Then how do you expect to stop me?"  
  
"Like this," Thranduil said quickly before resting a hand on the desk for support while he leapt over it with agility. In the twinkling of an eye he had already pinned Gimli to the ground, straddling his back, holding the Dwarf's wrists with one hand and reaching for the rope with the other.  
  
Thranduil could not help but think there was something wrong. It was too easy, Gimli did not even try to fight back.  
  
As Thranduil tied the last knot around the Dwarf's wrists, Gimli began to laugh insanely. Startled, Thranduil stared at him like he would a madman.  
  
"You are so predictable," Gimli said. "Obviously you have not heard much about me, have you? You are making things considerably easier for me."  
  
Thranduil did not understand what he meant until it was too late. While the Elf was still holding him down, Gimli looked at him over his shoulder, straight in the eyes. His gaze was intent and Thranduil was hypnotised. He could no longer move or even look away until something cold and powerful invaded his mind.  
  
Thranduil briefly lost track of what was happening. But when he came to his senses again, one of his feet on Gimli's back was firmly keeping the Dwarf to the ground while he picked up the axe.  
  
Gimli then spoke up hurriedly, "King Thranduil, do not allow it to - "  
  
Thranduil knocked him unconscious with the handle of the axe.  
  


*****

  
  
So easy. They were all fools. But now it had reached one of its goals, it was occupying a position of power… It smirked.  
  
Its newly acquired Elven senses alerted it that someone was coming. It quickly made sure the Dwarf was unconscious and out of sight behind the desk along with the axe, before straightening to welcome his visitor.  
  
When the Elf entered the room it immediately recognised him. Its former host. That one was getting a bit annoying.  
  
"Yes, Legolas?" it said.  
  
The younger Elf frowned as if something puzzled him. "I…" he hesitated. "Maybe am I disturbing you?"  
  
"A bit, actually," it replied coldly. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"  
  
Legolas shrugged uneasily. "There is no hurry, it can wait."  
  
Legolas turned round and left, wondering why one of his father's knives was driven in his desk. Surely the discovery of the dead Elves or Faelernil's and his behaviour at the council had not stirred their father's ire enough to force him to vent it this way, had it?  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas walked up to Aragorn and Mîrdolen, who stood next to the main doors.  
  
"What did he say?" Mîrdolen enquired.  
  
"He was busy, I did not want to interrupt him. Besides we already know what his answer would be." As the others nodded, Legolas went on. "What about you? Any news?"  
  
"Ethiannor, Niyan and I did not find anything," Aragorn said. "But there is still a lot of ground to cover and at the moment they are still searching."  
  
"While there are much more of them, it seems Faelernil's men have not found anything either. Not a single clue," Mîrdolen added. "He cannot have vanished, he *has* to be somewhere…"  
  
"Could he have left the city's walls?" Aragorn suggested.  
  
"A sentinel would have seen him," Mîrdolen replied. "He is still inside. He has to be."  
  
They all fell silent when Faelernil, accompanied by several of his men, walked by. Legolas stared insistently at his oldest brother, but Faelernil only cast him a quick look as if he did not see Legolas glaring at him.  
  
"Legolas, that is a bad idea," Mîrdolen said once Faelernil and his men had left.  
  
Legolas turned to his other brother. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
"No matter what you had in mind while looking at him, it was a bad idea," Mîrdolen explained.  
  
"I did not - " Legolas began but soon stopped when Mîrdolen arched an eyebrow with scepticism. "All right, it was a bad idea," he admitted reluctantly.  
  
"We should keep looking for Gimli," Aragorn reminded them.  
  
Both Elves nodded and as they began walking away, Mîrdolen spoke up.  
  
"Just out of curiosity, what is it exactly you were thinking of doing to him?"  
  
Legolas smiled. "Mîrdolen, I think not you should - "  
  
"Not that I am planning to do anything to him but sometimes he really gets on my nerves too. And it could still serve for other purposes," Mîrdolen argued.  
  
"No, Mîrdolen," Legolas replied firmly.  
  
His brother remained silent for a few seconds before asking mischievously, "Is it painful?"  
  
"Mîrdolen…" Legolas warned.  
  
Aragorn smiled. Mîrdolen's presence among them was making the mood much less tense than it would have been without him.  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli woke up at the sound of a metal door being locked. His head was sore and he was lying on damp ground. He picked himself up, fighting to keep his balance, and looked up only to find King Thranduil smirking at him on the other side of what was obviously a dungeon cell door.  
  
"Master Dwarf, let me introduce you to your newly assigned residence," the Elf said almost joyfully, indicating the cell with a wave of his hand.  
  
Gimli grunted. "Why am I here?" he asked angrily.  
  
"I could not leave you in my office where anyone could see you, could I?" Thranduil replied.  
  
Gimli walked to the door and put his fingers around the bars, clenching until his knuckles turned white. "You know what I mean. Why am I here *alive*?" he said furiously.  
  
"You see, I learn from my mistakes, Master Dwarf," Thranduil explained. "While I highly doubt it considering the new circumstances, someone could find out my identity and let the word out. So in case something goes awry, I might come back to you…"  
  
"I am your… backup host?" Gimli spat with disgust.  
  
"Absolutely, Master Dwarf," the Elf confirmed. "While it is not my favoured scenario, if it goes wrong here I could still travel northeast as a Dwarf, I believe your folks have a kingdom there… And I have to admit that as an host you are not very hard to control."  
  
Full of rage Gimli reached out, trying to grab his jailer, but the Elf immediately leapt out of reach.  
  
Thranduil shook his head. "Tsk tsk…"  
  
Gimli scowled, "When my friends notice I am missing they will go looking for me."   
  
"Oh, they already are," Thranduil replied, "but I doubt they ever find you here… And before you try anything, it is no use to call. This is the remotest cell of the dungeons. No one will hear you."  
  
Gimli glared at him while Thranduil smirked.  
  
"You know, this is so ironic," the Elf went on. "You, trapped in the same dungeons as your father was so many years before…"  
  
"As soon as I get out of here I will make you regret ever meeting me," Gimli threatened.  
  
"Really?" Thranduil mocked. "But you would have to manage to get out of here first…"  
  
Gimli took a few deep breaths in order to keep his temper. "It will be no easy task to fool your host's family and relatives," Gimli observed.  
  
"I might not have to fool them very long…" Thranduil replied mysteriously.  
  
Gimli stared at him as the Elf walked away. Was the creature implying what Gimli thought it was? Was it going to have those most likely to notice Thranduil's change of behaviour killed?  
  
His sons?  
  
------------------------------------  
  
Yes, I know, another cliffhanger. But what can I say? I love them!  
See you all in the reviews!  
  
**Next chapter**: _"Separation"_


	17. Separation

**A/N**: Oh my. It's been such a long time. Chapter 16 has been ready to post for ages, but this last month I had a *huge* writer's block with chapter 17, and I like to be a chapter ahead so that I know exactly where I'm heading and to still be able to make changes to the previous chapter if need be.  
  
Anyway, the writer's block is gone, chapter 17 is written and ready to be beta'ed, chapter 18 is completely planned out, the end of this story is coming near, so all is well!  
  
Just one thing though: my faithful beta is unfortunately unavailable these days. So if one of you would be kind enough to beta the upcoming chapter (and maybe the next ones) I would be eternally grateful. Anyone interested please contact me ASAP (e-mail in profile). Thank you!  
  
**SpaceVixenX** and **Niani**: Thanks for the compliments! And I do hope the new cliffhanger is as good as the last one, so beware!  
**Raven Nightstrider**: Of course I know what the creature is up to! But I won't tell you... *insert evil laugh here*  
**LegolasLover2003**: Yes, I can do anything I want. Now the problem for you is to know *what* I want exactly.  
**ElvenRanger13**: Oh come on. Would I kill one of my main characters? And a canon one at that? I know I'm crazy, evil and all but not *that* much. Stories are much more difficult to write with a dead main character (and I know *exactly* what I'm talking about)  
  
Chapter beta'ed by **Candice**. I hope everything is going well for you and that you'll soon have a connection again!  
So here comes chapter 16!   


**Chapter 16  
Separation**

  
  
  
"My Lords!" Niyan called, walking at a steady pace.  
  
Aragorn, Legolas and Mîrdolen immediately stopped and turned round to face the Gondorean striding through the corridor towards them.  
  
"What is going on, Niyan? Did you find him?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Nay I did not, but I just found something that I am sure you will find of great interest," Niyan replied. "If you would follow me, my Lords, I will show it to you at once," he concluded.  
  
Aragorn nodded and they all followed the young man through the corridors.  
  
"Ethiannor and I parted ways to cover more ground," Niyan explained on the way. "Several Elves would not let us go freely on a couple of occasions, but overall we were quite free of restriction."  
  
After a few minutes of walking through the corridors Niyan stopped abruptly next to a dark corner, looking puzzled. The young man took a step forward and froze. Looked left and right, an expression of utter confusion on his face. Turned round, examining the ground silently and turned once more to face the corner again.  
  
"Is there something wrong?" Aragorn enquired.  
  
"No longer… But there was a few minutes ago… There was… There was an axe lying there," Niyan said indicating the dark corner.  
  
"Are you sure?" Aragorn asked.  
  
Niyan looked down, obviously embarrassed. "I… I did not want to move it or pick it up, I thought… I thought you might be able to find a clue I had not, so I left it the way it was…" He looked up to Aragorn. "But my Lord, I swear on my life there was an axe lying right there," the young man insisted, indicating the dark corner.  
  
"Could you show us how the axe was positioned?" Aragorn queried.  
  
After Niyan did, Aragorn frowned. It looked like the axe had fallen but… There was something odd…  
  
"Could you please describe the axe?" Legolas asked.  
  
Niyan gave several details about the blade and the carvings of the handle, and Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a look: it was undoubtedly Gimli's axe.  
  
"I am terribly sorry, I should have picked it up," Niyan apologised, shaking his head.  
  
"No worry, Niyan. You already provided us with plenty of information," Aragorn reassured.  
  
"There was even dry blood on the blade…" Niyan muttered.  
  
Aragorn and Legolas exchanged another look while Mîrdolen frowned.  
  
"It is all right, Niyan. You should go and keep looking for Gimli," Aragorn suggested.  
  
Niyan nodded and left, looking thoroughly annoyed.  
  
"It was Gimli's axe," Legolas confirmed for Mîrdolen's attention once the young man was gone.  
  
"So unless someone else than him is using his weapon, it means he did…" the older Elf's voice trailed off.  
  
"I sincerely doubt Gimli's axe was stolen," Aragorn affirmed.  
  
"I second that," Legolas said.  
  
Mîrdolen looked at them with puzzlement. "Are the two of you suggesting that… Legolas, I thought you - "  
  
"I fear we might have disregarded a likely possibility," Aragorn interrupted before turning to Legolas. "I suppose you noticed what was wrong as well."  
  
The Elf nodded. "Gimli would never let blood dry on his axe. And considering some previous events, it can only mean that - "  
  
" - he did not vanquish the creature and it has just surfaced again," Aragorn finished.  
  
Mîrdolen looked alternately at the two of them. "What… You mean, during all this time the creature was there, in him?"  
  
"Probably waiting for the appropriate moment to strike," Legolas replied bitterly. "Its presence would explain the headaches."  
  
"Which means the situation is much more tricky than we thought it to be," added Aragorn.  
  
"We should let our Lord know at once. Warn him of the presence of that creature so that adequate measures are taken," Legolas said. "I will go tell him immediately."  
  
"In the meantime I will keep looking for Gimli with Ethiannor and Niyan," Aragorn added. "We must find him before it switches to someone else."  
  
"It could already have…" Legolas suggested with worry.  
  
"Let us hope not," Aragorn replied, "for it would mean the creature could be anywhere while Gimli would probably be dead."  
  
Legolas shivered at the prospect.  
  
"I will ask for information about that axe," Mîrdolen offered, "and try to see if Faelernil's men were the ones to find and take it."  
  


*****

  
  
Gimli paced back and forth in his cell. He had looked for one countless times but there was no way out. He had heard the tale of the escape of his father and his companions, but there was no way he would manage the same.  
  
He walked to the cell door once more and, pressing his face to the bars, looked in the direction Thranduil had left. All he could see was a dark and long corridor with empty cells on each side. No torch to light the place. No other prisoners. Only himself and his anger at being trapped there, turning round and round like an enraged beast.  
  
Gimli had quickly come to the conclusion that this part of the dungeons had long since been abandoned. It did not have the same Elvish touch that the other underground parts of the palace had. Actually it looked much more Dwarvish he might dare say.  
  
Gimli decided to postpone the reflection on how an Elven construction turned Dwarvish after some time of abandon. With no doubt that single observation would fuel many animated discussions with Legolas.  
  
Legolas. Legolas and his brothers. What had the creature in store for them? Would it just put them out of its way or would it -   
  
Gimli gave a rash raging punch in the cell door; the metallic sound echoed for a few seconds. He would not consider that possibility. If the creature attempted anything against Thranduil's sons, Legolas, Mîrdolen and Faelernil would immediately notice something was amiss. But would they think that the creature was controlling Thranduil's mind or would they just conclude that their father had turned mad?  
  
No. He was an Elf, he could not turn mad. Gimli hesitated. Could an Elf turn mad? He was not sure. If one could then Thranduil's sons might think it was what was happening. The problem was no one knew that the creature was still alive - Gimli had claimed loudly that he had vanquished it.  
  
Boasting about it had been stupid. When all this was over, Legolas would tease him about it endlessly. That is, if his friend was still alive by then. Gimli shuddered at the thought. He would gladly endure the teasing until the end of his days if it was the only way to ensure that Legolas would be alive when he got out of this cell. *If* he ever got out of this cell.  
  
Gimli shook his head. That kind of thinking was leading him nowhere. Nothing was leading him anywhere. As long as he would remain trapped there he would not be able to warn anyone. And it seemed unlikely that he would get out any time soon.  
  
Surely someone had to have noticed his disappearance by now.  
  


*****

  
  
Aragorn quickly scanned the library. That was one of the few places they had not searched yet, and for one good reason: day or night Elves could always be found there, reading or writing, so it was very unlikely Gimli - or rather the creature - would seek refuge there.  
  
"King Elessar?"  
  
Aragorn turned to the table next to him. Cindra was sitting there, a couple of books open in front of her and a quill in her hand.  
  
"My lady?"   
  
"May I enquire what is going on?" the young woman asked. "I was told that my leaving might have to be delayed, and the librarian that was helping me to translate these," she said indicating the texts in front of her, "just left with no notice." She gave a quick look around. "The Elves began whispering among themselves some time ago and while I do not understand what they are saying, I can tell they are worried." She paused. "Did something happen?"  
  
Aragorn nodded. "Five Elves were found dead earlier today." As Cindra paled he went on. "Until the responsible is found no one will get in or out of the city. Gimli has been missing since this morning so he is the main suspect for the moment."  
  
Aragorn hesitated for a second before telling her about their assumption about the creature - and when he did the young woman paled even more.  
  
She put her head in her hands before shaking it, her eyes closed. "I was really hoping it was gone but… we got rid of it way too easily…" she said with a tired and trembling voice.  
  
When she opened her eyes again, her gaze locked on the piece of parchment on the table, Aragorn immediately noticed the tears threatening to fall. Cindra had lost many to that creature he realised, and knowing it might still be around affected her all the more.  
  
"Have you found anything interesting?" he said with a gesture towards the books, hoping to lighten the mood even the slightest.  
  
"Not much I am afraid," she replied with a wry smile. "I did not have the time to investigate a lot yet, and with my translator now gone it will get harder. All I found was a reference in there," she said indicating one of the open books, "to creatures called, er…" She paused to have a look at her notes. "Barrow-wights," she articulated slowly as if the words were completely foreign to her.  
  
It was Aragorn's turn to pale. He knew of the Barrow-wights.  
  
"They seem to be able to - " Cindra began until Aragorn snatched the book she had indicated. He quickly read the passage to confirm what he already knew.  
  
Barrow-wights. Evil spirits sent to dwell in the Barrow-downs by the Witch-King of Angmar. They were very powerful creatures able to control their victims' minds enough to lure them into deadly traps. The only thing they were known to fear was the light.  
  
Aragorn swiftly turned on his heels and strode towards the door, leaving behind him Cindra, completely bewildered by his behaviour.  
  
"King Elessar?" she called but did not manage to get his attention.  
  
Could the creature they were now facing be akin to the Barrow-wights that dwelt to the East of the Shire? Aragorn wondered. The more he thought about it, the more that creature looked like a very powerful Barrow-wight, not only able to influence one's mind but to get into it.  
  
He was not sure whether that would be good news or not. Barrow-wights were evil and dangerous creatures, even more dangerous than the Nazguls were.  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas softly knocked on his father's office door and opened it when he heard the answer. Thranduil was sitting at his desk, waiting for him to speak.  
  
"My Lord, I came to let you know about a discovery Mîrdolen, King Elessar and I just made," Legolas said.  
  
"What discovery?" Thranduil enquired.  
  
"We think the mind controlling creature is still alive."  
  
Astonishingly, Thranduil did not react to those words. He did not even seem surprised. So Legolas went on:  
  
"Gimli probably did not vanquish it as he thought. Instead it remained lurking in his mind until it took control of him again. So Gimli is not responsible for those guards' deaths. The creature is."  
  
Thranduil leant back in his seat. "Even if that is true, we still have to find him."  
  
"Of course, but we must be careful. It could switch to someone else," Legolas pointed out.  
  
Before Thranduil could answer a guard entered the room hurriedly.  
  
"My King, there is a messenger from the Western patrol at the gates. He carries important news about the Orcs activity and seeks entrance to the city. Should we let him in?"  
  
An imperceptible smile lit Thranduil's face. "Let him in and bring him here immediately."  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas was not very surprised when an hour later he was asked to go to the council room. The news brought by that messenger was probably of utmost importance. When he arrived there he met Mîrdolen just outside the room, waiting for him.  
  
"I talked to Faelernil earlier," his brother whispered to him, "his men found no axe. Which means the creature probably got it back."  
  
Legolas nodded and they both entered the council room, where Thranduil and Faelernil were already waiting for them. Legolas was surprised to notice that no one else had been invited, not even Séregon, his father's advisor. That was a first and Séregon would certainly be displeased to learn that he had been kept at a distance.  
  
Thranduil was sitting at the head of the table and Faelernil on his right. Mîrdolen sat on his left. According to etiquette Legolas was supposed to sit on Faelernil's right but instead he decided to sit next to Mîrdolen. Much to Legolas' surprise Thranduil did not say anything about it. As for Faelernil he briefly looked at his youngest brother with what could be an apologetic gaze but said nothing either.  
  
"As you might have heard, a messenger from the Western patrol arrived an hour ago," Thranduil began. "It seems the Orcs have finally decided to launch an important attack on the city. At this very moment they are marching this way. All of them."  
  
Legolas exchanged a look with Mîrdolen and he knew his brother thought the same as he did: that was very, very bad news, and the presence of the creature within their walls only made it worse. His eyes met Faelernil's again and for a moment they stared at each other. Despite the circumstances Legolas could not help but resent his oldest brother.  
  
"Tonight I will send three companies to stop them and I want you three to take their command," Thranduil went on.  
  
Legolas saw Faelernil's eyes widen at the same time as his did. Both their heads simultaneously turned to their father's stern face. From the corner of his eyes Legolas could see that Mîrdolen was as flabbergasted as they were.  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
Legolas' attention switched back to Faelernil and he stared at him with shock. Never in his long lifetime had he ever heard his oldest brother talk so boldly to their King.  
  
"I mean, are you seriously considering to send all three of us there?" Faelernil went on doubtfully.  
  
"I am and that decision is mine to make, Faelernil," Thranduil replied coldly. "Are you contesting my orders?"  
  
Legolas watched as Faelernil swallowed uneasily. He would not be bold enough to admit he was, would he?  
  
"Of course not," Faelernil assured. "But according to the latest reports there was the equivalent of six companies of Orcs gathering in the West."  
  
Legolas stared at his brother. He had not been told about that number and hence had ignored until then the seriousness of the threat those Orcs represented.  
  
"Sending less than five companies to stop them would make it…" Faelernil's voice trailed off.  
  
Slaughter, Legolas completed mentally. And not for the Orcs.  
  
"We cannot send more than three companies. We must keep the city safe," Thranduil replied.  
  
Legolas wished he knew how many companies were stationed in the city at the moment. Could they be that short of warriors?  
  
"An additional company could still be sent," Faelernil insisted, "even two would not impair the city's security enough to - " Faelernil stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes caught his father's angry look. "But I suppose you already took this into consideration and decided that it was best to send only three companies," he ended in a low voice, looking down to his intertwined fingers.  
  
"Absolutely," Thranduil replied callously. "I hope none of you have any other objection." As his sons remained silent Thranduil went on. "Good. Then you will leave at sunset."  
  
Legolas gave a quick look towards the windows. That would be in only an hour or so. When Thranduil stood up they all remained sitting, thoughtfully looking at each other. Legolas' duty was to go fight that battle with his brothers but he had that nagging feeling…  
  
As Thranduil made his way towards the door, Legolas spoke loudly and firmly. "I will not leave."  
  
His father froze on the doorstep while his brothers tensed. Thranduil walked back to the table.  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"I will not leave until Gimli is found," Legolas insisted, very aware of the ire flashing in his father's eyes.  
  
"You do realise that we might never find him, do you not?" Thranduil asked, his voice much calmer than his gaze.  
  
"I am convinced we *will* find him," Legolas retorted," and until then I will remain here."  
  
A succession of various strong feelings shone brightly in Thranduil's eyes. "Fine, I will send someone else," he eventually snapped before turning on his heels and slamming the council room's door behind him.  
  
All three brothers instantly released the breaths they were holding.  
  


*****

  
  
"A Barrow-wight?" whispered Legolas.  
  
"Something akin to a Barrow-wight, aye," the former Ranger confirmed.  
  
The Elf nodded. "It could be… Yet we are still ignorant of how to kill it… A Barrow-wight is sensitive to light but this creature is obviously not, at least not when controlling an host's body."  
  
"Maybe we could figure a way to bring it out of the host," Aragorn suggested.  
  
"In the meantime we still have to find it and Gimli," Legolas said. As Aragorn nodded he went on: "Still no news?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "Unfortunately, no." The King of Gondor glanced towards the Elves that were preparing to leave. "Your Lord made a hasty decision."  
  
Legolas did not reply. Instead he looked over to where his brothers were among the other Elves, preparing to leave as well. Mîrdolen waved him over.  
  
"I will be back in a minute," Legolas told Aragorn before leaving him to join his brother. Mîrdolen immediately took him aside.  
  
"Legolas, I am very worried about our Lord," he said.  
  
"I know for I am too," Legolas agreed. "That decision is…"  
  
"Stupid?" Mîrdolen offered.  
  
"I would have opted for 'unwise'," Legolas corrected.  
  
"It makes it no less stupid," Mîrdolen retorted before sighing. "He never did such thing before. I mean sending both Faelernil and I to the same battle. It would have been too dangerous, you know, for the Crown."  
  
"And he wanted me to go with you as well," Legolas pointed out.  
  
"Which would have endangered all his heirs at once." Mîrdolen paused. "Something is wrong, Legolas. The last time he took a decision as reckless was shortly after Mother left to cross the Great Sea." He hesitated. "I fear some concern he would not tell us about might be impairing his judgment. Maybe he just wants to keep us away from this creature but…" Mîrdolen sighed. "Legolas, please keep a close eye on him while we are away."  
  
"I will," Legolas promised. He would have even if his brother had not asked it of him. He could not ignore the warning his instincts were sending him about his father.  
  
As Mîrdolen was about to join the other Elves Legolas said, "Be careful."  
  
"Yes Mother," Mîrdolen joked, "and I will not try to socialise with those evil strangers attempting to kill me with their swords."  
  
Legolas smiled. "You really cannot help yourself, can you?"  
  
When Mîrdolen shrugged Legolas pulled him into a quick brotherly hug. "Do not do anything stupid," he dropped in the older Elf's ear.  
  
"I never do anything stupid," Mîrdolen claimed as he began to lead his horse towards one of the companies.  
  
Legolas shook his head with amusement. He began walking back towards Aragorn but froze when he heard his name. Legolas turned round to find Faelernil behind him, waiting for him.  
  
"Aye?" Legolas replied warily.  
  
For what seemed to Legolas the first time in his brother's life, Faelernil was hesitant.  
  
"You and I had many arguments since you were born, but we never remained crossed very long, right?" Faelernil asked clumsily.  
  
As an answer Legolas only shrugged. He was not sure what the older Elf was getting at.  
  
After a long and embarrassed silence, Faelernil eventually said, his gaze lost in the distance: "I am sorry for what I said earlier."  
  
Startled, Legolas stared at his brother. Faelernil was not one to apologise easily. Actually he was not one to apologise.  
  
"I am afraid I got a bit carried away and went a bit too far. I did not mean what I said. You changed a lot these last years, that is for sure, but not for the worse."  
  
Legolas knew that was the closest to a compliment he could get from Faelernil. Completely speechless he let him go on.  
  
"I admit I went a bit far about your friend as well but I was just trying to do what I thought was best. As soon as you left I realised what I was doing and changed my instructions. They were not to kill him."  
  
Faelernil paused and looked at Legolas expectantly as if he was waiting for him to say something, but Legolas could not. He was at a total loss for words and was absolutely unable to form any coherent sentence. When Legolas remained silent Faelernil looked a bit disappointed.  
  
"I hope you find your friend safe and sound soon," Faelernil whispered before turning to leave.  
  
Legolas kept staring at his brother as he walked away. He suddenly remembered the older Elf's words in the council room and he instantly knew what was tormenting Faelernil.  
  
He was going to fight a battle he was likely to loose considering the numbers. He was not sure if they were to return. And he did not want to leave knowing his brother still resented him.  
  
"Faelernil," Legolas called.  
  
Faelernil stopped and turned round to face him while Legolas caught up with him. The younger Elf extended his arm to his brother.  
  
"Take care of yourself," said Legolas.  
  
Faelernil gave a weak smile and nodded before fraternally clasping his brother's arm, their eyes locking for a second. Soon the three companies left, led by Faelernil, Mîrdolen and another captain.  
  
King Thranduil did not come to bid his sons farewell.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------  
End of Chapter 16...  
  
Oooooh, what's going to happen!?  
Me! Me!! I know!!  
Oh, all right... See you soon in the next chapter! And remember that I'm looking for someone to beta it! (grammar/spelling mainly)  
**Next chapter**: _Revelation_


	18. Revelation

**A/N**: Once again, I'm terribly sorry for the delay. I'm posting this in a hurry so I don't have much time to answer reviews. I just want to say thank you guys for being so patient with me, and that I don't intend to leave this story unfinished. Actually this is one of the reasons behind the delay: the story is now planned to the end... So on the good side, the next chapters should be quicker to come... Hopefully...  
  
Also big thanks to **Raven** and **Candice** for betaing this chapter.  
  
Anyway, here comes the new chapter!  
  
  


**Chapter 17  
Revelation**

  
  
That night was tense and sleepless, the Elves knew there was still a murderer within the walls of the City. The sudden departure of two of the princes had left a tension anyone could feel.  
  
Faelernil's men proceeded with the searches during the night while Legolas, Aragorn and his men decided to rest for a few hours at least. Once the morning came though, and since Gimli was still missing, they began moving heaven and earth again to find the Dwarf. But with Mîrdolen gone there was no one left to lighten the mood of their search party.  
  
Legolas now had more than one worry on his mind. Besides Gimli's welfare, he was concerned about his brothers' as well as his father's. Faelernil and Mîrdolen were about to fight a dangerous battle they were likely to lose, while Thranduil's behaviour had become more than troubling lately.  
  
But the Elf decided to push most of those worries aside - all but one - to concentrate on the work in hand when he and Aragorn agreed on which places to search before parting ways.  
  
There were very few places that had not been searched thoroughly yet and - quite ironically considering Mîrdolen's comment the day before - the dungeons were one of them.  
  
As he came near the dungeons' entrance Legolas immediately noted the presence of the single guard there. The place was indeed supposed to be guarded but usually by two guards. But Legolas had been told there was no prisoner there at the moment. Since the fall of Sauron, the Orcs' behaviour had become more erratic and taking an enemy prisoner rather useless - the interrogation of one no longer helped to learn their Master's motives.  
  
When Legolas walked towards the entrance the guard immediately stood in his way.  
  
"I am sorry my Lord, but I cannot let you go any further," the guard claimed.  
  
Speechless, Legolas stared at the other Elf for a second before crossing his arms on his chest. "And may I enquire why?" he asked.  
  
"The King forbid it, my Lord," answered the Guard.  
  
"Really? King Thranduil ordered you to prevent anyone from entering the dungeons?" clarified Legolas.  
  
"He did, my Lord," the guard confirmed.  
  
"And why would he do that without informing me? I heard we had no prisoners at the moment," Legolas objected.  
  
"I know not, my Lord."  
  
Legolas shook his head and as he tried to get past the guard the other Elf stepped in front of him again.  
  
"My Prince," emphasised the guard, "the King was extremely clear. No one is to get inside the dungeons except the King himself."  
  
Legolas ignored the comment and stepped aside again in an attempt to get round the guard but the other Elf moved in his way once more.  
  
"I am afraid I have to insist my Lord," the guard said. "I am to take very drastic measures should someone trespass and I would not want to go that far," he went on, his hand moved to the handle of his weapon - he made very clear what the drastic measures were.  
  
"This is absolutely ridiculous," Legolas declared incredulously.  
  
"King's orders, Sir," the guard simply stated.  
  
Legolas stared at the other Elf. He could try to force his way in but he wished the guard no harm for he was only obeying his King's orders - as exasperating as they were.  
  
"I shall take it up with the King," Legolas affirmed before turning on his heels and walking furiously back to the palace.  
  
That was more than he could endure and King or no King, Thranduil was going to hear his son's opinion about his decisions. Thranduil seemed completely out of his mind lately: preventing anyone from entering empty dungeons, sending his sons to a certain death…  
  
Legolas suddenly froze. So many inconsiderate decisions in so short a time from his usually rather thoughtful father could not be a mere coincidence.  
  
Legolas turned round and quickly walked back to the Elf guarding the dungeons.  
  
"When did the King give these orders?" he asked gravely.  
  
"Yesterday morning, Sir," the guard replied.  
  
Everything now seemed to fit in Legolas' mind. Gimli had disappeared that morning. The orders about the dungeons were given that same morning. And Thranduil had decided to send his sons away later that day and had not bid them farewell - so unlike the caring father he was.  
  
The creature was no longer possessing Gimli but Thranduil.  
  
Legolas resolutely strode towards his father's office, determined to confront the creature immediately, but soon froze again as a sudden dread invaded his mind.  
  
The creature always had its former hosts killed - except himself since it did not have the chance to do so. But what about Gimli?  
  
Legolas looked back at the dungeons. If Gimli was still alive somewhere it had to be there. And the creature would have given specific orders so that no one would find the Dwarf.  
  
If he was right about the creature shifting to Thranduil then at the moment Gimli could be seriously wounded and in pain, dying or worse - already dead.  
  
Legolas took a step towards the dungeons.  
  
But what if he was wrong about the creature? What if Thranduil was not possessed? Or what if he was right about the creature but not about the dungeons? His raid in the dungeons would be fruitless and he would lose his advantage on the creature - it would be alerted immediately and discover that Legolas knew about its identity.  
  
Legolas took a step back towards the palace.  
  
He was so certain about the dungeons though. Gimli was there, he could tell it, he could almost feel it. It was the perfect place to hide someone now that there were no other prisoners.  
  
Legolas hesitated and turned towards the dungeons once more. He then looked back at the palace, then at the dungeons again, his heart wavering between his will to find and help his friend and his need to make sure his accusations against his father were justified.  
  
No, he had to make sure about the creature first.  
  
Almost unwillingly Legolas walked away from the dungeons and towards his father's office.  
  


*****

  
  
Turning round and round in his cell almost made Gimli feel giddy.  
  
He could do nothing. Absolutely _nothing_. Being so useless was making him crazy. He was a warrior. He was not used to being out of things while the significant battle was probably being fought.  
  
He had been trapped there for quite a while now. Considering his lifelong experience at living in caves and his stomach crying famine he could tell a whole day had gone by.  
  
He then realised he had spent a night without sleep. But how could he have found sleep?  
  
Maybe was it presumptuous of him to hope his friends would come and rescue him. If they had found out about the creature's presence they would probably think him dead and would have stopped looking for him long ago. And if they had not, would they think of looking here?  
  
Gimli gave a new quick look down the hallway and sighed. If he kept turning round and round any longer his footsteps would be engraved on the floor forever.  
  
Gimli eventually sat on the ground. If he was condemned to remain there, better have some sleep while he still could.  
  


*****

  
  
This last day was arguably the worst day in his entire lifetime - and that was saying quite a lot. The King of Mirkwood had gone through many ordeals, what with the Necromancer and Dol Guldur, the dark forces invading the south of Mirkwood countless times, the never-ending Orcs attacks…  
  
However the worst of all had been the day his beloved spouse decided to leave Middle-Earth for Aman alone. She had resisted the call of the sea for many years but a day came when she could no longer bear to see her kin and her beloved ones suffer more and more from the growing darkness. So she sailed, leaving him and their sons behind. But no matter how dark Thranduil's days became he knew he would meet her again the day he himself decided to cross the Great Sea.  
  
But this. _This_. This was in a class of its own. A whole new scale of horror. The hell Legolas or his Dwarf friend must have lived while possessed by this creature was not hard to imagine - actually no imagination was required since he was living it himself.  
  
He could not believe it. Faelernil and Mîrdolen, his two oldest sons, gone to a battle lost from the start because the creature wanted to keep them away. And it was also planning on getting rid of Legolas as soon as it could as well.  
  
Thranduil feared not only for his sons but for all his kin as well. That creature had many plans. Delusional plans of grandeur. Once the upcoming battle lost - and his sons likely dead - it already planned to forge an alliance with the Orcs.  
  
An _alliance_ with _Orcs_!  
  
He had not fought for thousands of years to see such a day. He had not fought against the darkness so long to see his sons die before him. He would not stand it.  
  
He would not even be allowed the relief to die of grief or despair. Not with the creature controlling him like that. Or maybe his soul would die while his body would remain in this world like an empty shell possessed by a parasite.  
  
A very annoying, maddening, infuriating parasite.  
  
At least his oldest memories were preserved from this filthy creature. It seemed it did not have access to his earliest past. It was the only way to momentarily escape its grasp: take refuge in the pleasant recollections of a past long gone.  
  
And as his mind wandered back to such times, Thranduil pictured himself entering the gardens to find all his sons there. The two youngest ones were joyfully playing together while the eldest was studying on bench at a distance, a book on his lap. A soft smile lit Thranduil's face at that sight.  
  
A delicate hand took his, fingers slowly entwining with his own. Thranduil did not need to look at his side to know she would be there. His beloved.  
  
When he eventually turned left his eyes met hers and his smile broadened. She was as beautiful as ever. No words were needed for she had always been able to tell him anything just with one look. And at the moment her eyes were reassuring and telling him that everything would be all right.  
  
And he believed her. Everything would be all right in the end.  
  
A tiny Elfling's hand suddenly grasped Thranduil's free one as his youngest son tried to hide behind him while his older brother came after him. The two of them kept whirling around their parents, chasing one another, the air echoing with their crystal-clear laughters.  
  


*****

  
  
While Legolas was quickly making his way through the palace he abruptly stopped as a thought hit him. This was where Niyan had seen Gimli's axe. A quick look down the corridor confirmed that the King's office was only a few yards away.  
  
Legolas continued his way. This could not be another coincidence. Was there still any need to prove his point? All the clues pointed in the same direction. He was wasting time he could use to save his friend while - if - it was still possible.  
  
"Yes, Legolas?"  
  
Only then did Legolas realise that his steps had mechanically led him to the doorstep of his father's office and that Thranduil was looking at him expectantly.  
  
There was no turning back now.  
  
"Do you have a minute?" Legolas asked.  
  
Thranduil gestured for his son to step in.  
  
"I saw you forbid access to the dungeons," Legolas began. He had to be cautious. "Is there a particular reason?"  
  
"The dungeons are empty these days. A place of choice for someone to hide, so as soon as I learned about Gimli being on the loose I gave specific orders so that no one would be able to hide in there," Thranduil replied.  
  
A valid answer, Legolas thought. "Of course," he nodded with a smile, knowing that his father would immediately notice it was a fake smile. But would the creature be able to notice it as well, he wondered?  
  
His gaze fell on the crack in the middle of the desk. And then he remembered. The knife in the wood of his father's desk the morning before. Thranduil's behaviour at that moment, cold and dismissive.  
  
It had happened right then and right there. Right under his eyes. And he could have prevented it all. Gimli had probably still been in the office. If only Legolas had paid more attention…  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
Legolas looked up to his father. He had sent Faelernil and Mîrdolen away. He had tried to send all three of them, probably to prevent any of them to notice what was going on. The creature's intentions for him were quite clear.  
  
Make sure it thinks you still trust him or you will soon be a dead Elf, Legolas thought. And at the hands of your own father… But he knew his father was still there somewhere, able to hear him. He had to let Thranduil know his son knew about the creature. But how to do so without arousing the creature's suspicion?  
  
In front of him, the King of Mirkwood was still waiting for an answer. Think fast, Legolas…  
  
"I have a question about what you told me the other day," he eventually began, "about the difference between my sea longing and Mother's."  
  
Yes, that was it! Why had he not thought about it earlier? The only time he had felt free while still possessed by the creature was when his mother had come to him. No, when _he_ had come to his mother. The creature was unable to reach him there - there or in any of his childhood memories, he realised.  
  
The creature could not handle and steal all the memories gathered during the immortal life of an Elf. It was restricted to the last centuries only - a mortal being's lifespan.  
  
If it was the same with his father, the creature would not know a single thing about the Queen of Mirkwood - she was part of too distant memories.  
  
Meanwhile, Thranduil nodded cautiously.  
  
"As you know," Legolas went on, "I was still young when she left so I might not remember correctly. But I only want to clarify something. She never showed any sign of it but is it right that Queen Laermenel managed to withstand her sea longing for many years?"  
  
Thranduil nodded slowly. "Many years, indeed."  
  
Legolas smiled broadly. He was most pleased with the answer. "So hopefully I will be able to do the same and resist my own sea longing for many years to come." He did not even have to feign his enthusiasm - though it was totally unconnected with sea longing.  
  
"I am afraid I have to go for now," Legolas went on, "but remind me to tell you about a project I have for South Ithilien some time."  
  
Legolas left his father's office when the older Elf dismissed him. Obviously the creature had not noticed anything amiss and Legolas was convinced that if Thranduil had listened to that conversation then he would know of his son's awareness. He had to find Aragorn quickly and tell him that there was no doubt as to whom the creature now possessed.  
  
For his mother's name was not Laermenel but Míriel.  
  
-----------------------------------  
End of chapter 17...  
  
Short chapter, I know, but the next is much longer I promise. It should come sooner than this one did. Anyway in the meantime, don't forget to review... I know it's been a long time but the review button hasn't moved, it's still down there on your left... No, your other left... Yeah, that's it! ;-)  
  
Next chapter: "_The weight of memories_" (with a long flashback to Legolas' childhood! Oooh, I bet you can't wait!) 


	19. The Weight of Memories

**A/N**: Here it is at last... I'm sorry it took so long again, but I'm a bad and lazy girl... Plus I hadn't finished writing the next chapter since a couple of things needed some time to mature in my mind... Anyway, I would like to answer to a couple of reviews...  
  
**MarySuesREvil**: First, let me congratulate you for your screen name, I love it! Now, about the details you brought my attention to. (BTW, thanks a million for that!) First about Celeborn leaving Middle-earth with Galadriel. I must have been really, really tired when I wrote this because I *do* know Celeborn remained behind when Galadriel left. I will change that line when I revise the story. Which should happen as soon as I finish it. Anyway thanks for pointing this error out to me. Now about Mirkwood becoming Eryn Lasgalen since the beginning of the 4th Age. Somehow, when I began writing this story, I thought the name change had occurred farther into the 4th Age, like a decade or two after the beginning of the 4th Age. So in my mind this story was set between the two (I had even planned to include, or at least imply, the name change in the epilogue). But a few chapters ago I had a sudden urge to check the dates in the appendixes, and realised my mistake. However I decided to keep going with the name Mirkwood since I had used it from the beginning. Though I also plan to change it to Eryn Lasgalen when I revise the story ;-)  
  
**LegolasLover2003**: You say that it's been a long time since there was Legolas angst... But he's always been worrying either about his friend(s), his father, his brothers... So from my point of view the angst has never really stopped for him... Anyway I hope you'll find what you're looking for in this chapter with the flashbacks to Legolas' childhood. BTW, thanks for teaching me yet another funny english expression. After "going bananas" (when I came across it by chance the other day while looking up another word in my dictionary I realised it was a real expression), "to have the smarts". I'll have to check this one some day... ;-)  
  
**To all the others** (who I praise as much as the others) : thank you for spending a few seconds to write your opinion about this story. All your kind words are what makes it all worth it, so please keep them coming ;-)  
  
As always, thanks to **Candice** who beta'd this chapter and who's being very patient with me...  
  
Now, on with the story!  
  


**Chapter 18  
The Weight of Memories**

  
  
Legolas came across Aragorn as he was looking for him through the Palace's corridors.  
  
"Aragorn, I know where the creature and Gimli are. And they are not in the same place," the Elf said.  
  
"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked with a frown.  
  
"The creature no longer possesses Gimli," Legolas explained, "but my father."  
  
"King Thranduil? Are you sure?" Aragorn enquired.  
  
"I am afraid I am," Legolas replied with a sad smile.  
  
"But since when did - " Aragorn paused as he realised. "His odd orders, the troops sent west…"  
  
"Aye," Legolas confirmed. "I also have good reasons to believe Gimli is somewhere in the dungeons. We have to go there quickly and retrieve him before it is too late. I know of a way to enter the dungeons unnoticed, I do not think anyone else knows about it. I used it a long time ago but it is probably still accessible."  
  
As Aragorn nodded Niyan came to meet them in a hurry.  
  
"My Lords!" he called, his face pallid.  
  
"Aye, Niyan?" Aragorn greeted. "Where is Ethiannor? You two were supposed to meet me in a few minutes."  
  
Niyan paled even more. "A group of Elves just found him dead, my Lord," he answered in a whisper. "All I know is that he was on something he would not tell me about and wanted us to part ways in order to be more discreet."  
  
Aragorn silently closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "We must put an end to all this quickly," he said mainly directing his words at Legolas. "Enough have lost their lives at the hands of this creature."  
  
Both Legolas and Niyan nodded their agreement, and Aragorn went on. "Then our first priority is to neutralise the creature. Which means searching the dungeons for Gimli comes second," he said looking at Legolas.  
  
"But if Gimli is wounded he might need urgent healing!" Legolas protested.  
  
"Legolas," Aragorn interrupted, "up till now all the creature's former hosts and all those that came in its way were found dead. I am sorry but wherever Gimli is at the moment," he went on with sorrow in his voice, "he is more than likely - "  
  
"He is still alive, I am sure of it!" Legolas insisted heatedly. "I see no reason why we would not have found his body had he been killed. He is hidden there, in custody and with drastic access restrictions because he is still alive and knows. Aragorn, checking the dungeons will only take us a hour or so. The creature has been among us for days, one more hour will not make much difference."  
  
"One hour could make all the difference," Aragorn objected. "How many orders will the creature be able to give through your Lord within a hour? It has already sent three companies and your two brothers to a likely death."  
  
Niyan had not been directly informed about the latest news and had not dared intervene but had soon put one and one together. As for Aragorn he knew he had touched a subject close to Legolas' heart if the Elf's drawn face was any indication.  
  
Legolas hesitated. He hated being torn between his will and his duty. The lives of his people would depend on the decision they made. The choice between his people and his friend was hard to make for the second time that day.  
  
"We could find a way to keep it occupied. To keep it away from both the dungeons where it could find us and from any important decision of any kind," Legolas offered with a hint of hope in his voice.  
  
As Aragorn began shaking his head slowly Legolas decided to give his strategy a more personalised turn.  
  
"If Gimli is still alive we cannot fail him and leave him to stagnate there. When Merry and Pippin were captured by Orcs they were likely to be killed long before we caught up with them but we kept faith and followed the track for days through Rohan to Fangorn forest." Legolas saw in Aragorn's eyes that *he* had touched a subject close to the former Ranger's heart. "When Frodo and Sam went to Mordor alone, no one would have given much of their lives but - "  
  
"All right!" Aragorn exclaimed with the look of one who knew in advance he would not win that argument, while Legolas bore a triumphant smile. "Legolas, you will go to the dungeons while I keep King Thranduil busy."  
  
Legolas' smile instantly faded and he shook his head firmly. "That is absolutely out of the question. You are a King yourself and it would not be wise to tempt the creature now that we know with certitude where - or rather who - it is."  
  
"Then someone else will have to do it," Aragorn concluded.  
  
Niyan perceptibly straightened when both Lords simultaneously turned to him.  
  
"Niyan, if I recall correctly, you used to work on the diplomatic company before becoming a soldier," Aragorn noted. "Is that right?"  
  
"Absolutely my Lord," Niyan confirmed, "three years in Rohan."  
  
"Did you have a change of career because of lack of diplomatic talent?" Aragorn questioned.  
  
"No my Lord, because of personal reasons," the young man replied.  
  
"As you have heard, we need to keep King Thranduil busy for at least one hour. This is a mission of great importance so answer me honestly. Do you think yourself capable of it?"  
  
"I believe so, my Lord," Niyan confirmed. "If I pretend to come in your name he will certainly receive me. From then on I am quite confident I will be able to keep him busy. The diplomat I was associated with in Rohan was quite fond of long debates."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "All right. Make up whatever you wish as long as you keep him in his study and do not raise the creature's suspicion. Do not take any inconsiderate risks. If you feel your life is at stake, withdraw immediately. Did I make myself clear?"  
  
"Yes my Lord," Niyan confirmed.  
  
Aragorn hesitated. "Do you think you would be able to give us two hours?"  
  
"No more trouble than one, my Lord."  
  


*****

  
  
Aragorn swiftly followed Legolas through the gardens.  
  
"Are you sure of the way?" the former Ranger enquired.  
  
"Positive," confirmed Legolas.  
  
It was only when they reached the very end of the gardens that Legolas stopped next to a wall covered with ivy. His hand searched the surface for a few seconds until he stilled and smiled.  
  
As he pushed aside a section of ivy a dark recess was revealed. Approximately one yard inside was an opening in the ground.  
  
"What is that?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"A long forgotten aeration system. The back of the dungeons is right below us. All we have to do is go down there. The height is reasonable," Legolas assured.  
  
Aragorn nodded and prepared their torches. As Legolas was about to go down the opening first he enquired: "How do you know about this passage if no one else knows about it?"  
  
Legolas hesitated. "It would be a long story, and we do not have much time. Maybe another day," he offered before disappearing into the opening.  
  


*****

  
  
A very young Legolas slid down to the ground and smirked. The others would never find him there. The rules specified they were not supposed to leave the gardens for the palace, but he was not in the palace, was he? Legolas thought with a mischievous smile. This time he would beat them at their own game.  
  
Legolas undertook to get to know the place. He had never been there - his father would have never allowed it. He seemed to be at the very end of a long and dark corridor, and was surprised to discover the place was very poorly lit.  
  
If it was not for the few torches every now and then on the walls, the place would be plunged in complete darkness.  
  
About to explore further, Legolas suddenly froze right on spot, slightly intimidated by the sound of shouts and growls. Where did they all come from? He ventured a look down the corridor. There were cells on both sides and arms sporadically reaching out for the Elven guards. That was not the way he had pictured the dungeons.  
  
Legolas jumped when a growl resounded very close to him. Only then did he realise that only a few yards from him on his right was an inhabited cell. Its occupant was observing him closely while clutching the cell's bars tightly.  
  
Lured by curiosity, Legolas could not help but step closer to examine the creature. Was that an Orc? He had never seen one for real before but he had seen illustrations in books. He had long thought the descriptions were exaggerated but it seemed they were not for he had never seen such an ungraceful being. However the look full of hatred had not been transcribed.  
  
The Orc was still observing him, and as it pressed its face against the bars its eyes narrowed and gleamed with avidity.  
  
Before Legolas knew it the Orc had thrown its arm at him. Legolas barely had the time to feel the Orc's hand on his neck before a strong arm picked him up from behind and pulled him away from the cell.  
  
In retrospect Legolas would realise much later that he had been very close to losing his head that day - literally. But the only thing he would remember from the few seconds that followed was a blurred chaos mixed with growls, someone shouting at the Orc, more growls, until his feet reached the ground again.  
  
Legolas instantly turned round and was somewhat relieved to recognise Valendil, one of his father's Captains.  
  
The older Elf crouched until he was eye level with Legolas and examined him quickly to make sure he was all right.  
  
"This is no place for a child, my young Prince," said Valendil before standing up. "Please allow me to lead you back to the door."  
  
Firmly holding his shoulder and pushing him forward, the Captain did not leave Legolas much choice.  
  
"But this is a great place to hide!" Legolas complained as they walked past more cells.  
  
Valendil frowned and eyed him with a grave look. "Who are you hiding from?"  
  
"The other children!" Legolas replied as though it should have been obvious. "They will never find me here and I will win the game!"  
  
The Captain smiled softly. "Probably, but this is a dangerous place and I will not allow you to stay here. Come on, follow me."  
  
Legolas complied with a disappointed pout.  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas and Aragorn silently explored the main level of the dungeon, examining cell after cell carefully. They had started their search from the back end of the dungeons where they had landed, and were now drawing close to the front door, still unsuccessful.  
  
When they eventually reached the front end of the dungeons they could do nothing else than admit their mistake.  
  
Aragorn shook his head sadly. "I suppose you must have been wrong in your assessment. Come on Legolas, we have lost enough time," he concluded as he went for the door. "Legolas?"  
  
But the Elf was no longer listening. He was walking towards the side wall, using his torch to light a concealed door Aragorn had not noticed until then.  
  
"Where does that lead?" Aragorn asked as he moved next to Legolas.  
  
"To a wing of the dungeons that has been disused since long before my birth," the Elf replied.  
  
Aragorn observed his companion as his hand slid down the chink between the door and the wall.  
  
"It is no longer sealed…" Legolas whispered. "It should have been sealed…"  
  
"You have been away from Mirkwood for years, maybe your Lord has had it unsealed during your absence," Aragorn offered.  
  
"I think not," Legolas objected. "He is the one who had it sealed in the first place and he would never have it otherwise under any circumstances."  
  
"Too long a story as well, I suppose?" Aragorn guessed.  
  
Legolas did not answer. Instead he turned the handle and pushed the door open.  
  
"No longer locked either…" he muttered. "There is something wrong here. My Lord would have never allowed access to this part of the dungeons. Unless he was possessed by a certain creature, in which case it did not have access to the too remote memory that explained the forbidding…"  
  
Too long a story indeed, Aragorn gathered. "Then let us go in there," he said aloud.  
  
Legolas nodded. "Forget not your torch, it will be much useful down there," he advised. "And watch your step," he added almost anxiously as he walked through the door.  
  
Aragorn frowned at him before following him down a flight of circular stairs. Why would they need the torches any more there than they already had? He could not imagine the circumstances if this place had been disused since long before the Elf's birth, but Aragorn knew with certitude that Legolas *had* been there before.  
  


*****

  
  
Legolas reluctantly kept walking in front of the Captain, the strong hand on his shoulder still pushing him forward, until they were only a few yards from the front door.  
  
Somewhere far behind was a sudden shout followed by some growls. Then the sound of metal clashing and someone calling the Captain with urgency.  
  
Valendil had stopped guiding Legolas and was looking back, listening intently. He eventually urged Legolas towards the door one last time. "Go outside. Now," he ordered hurriedly before turning on his heels. The Elf looked back only once as he moved away to make sure Legolas was obeying, and seemed satisfied to see the Elfling's hand on the door's handle.  
  
But Legolas did not open it for he realised no one was paying him any attention any more, too busy were they taking care of whatever was happening in the back of the dungeons.  
  
If he went out now the others would undoubtedly spot him immediately. Maybe he could find a way to remain hidden in the dungeons without the guards noticing him, he thought as he wondered where that door on the side wall led.  
  
Hesitating no longer, he cast one last look around to make sure no one was watching him before opening the concealed door. As soon as he was inside he slowly and silently closed the door.  
  
His grin of satisfaction soon faded as he realised the room he had just entered was pitch black. Not a single torch to light the place. Which was a good thing in a way: it meant the place was no longer in use and no one would think to look for him in there.  
  
Legolas turned round and leant against the door. If he stayed near the entrance anyone opening it even briefly would see him immediately. No, he should hide further in the dark.  
  
Legolas took a tentative step forward, then a second. Now confident, he went on, his arms probing in front of him so as to feel the opposite wall when he would reach it.  
  
But his hands found none and at his fourth step his foot found no ground either. Surprised and unbalanced, he tripped and fell down a flight of stairs.  
  


*****

  
  
As soon as they had reached the bottom of the stairs Legolas had suddenly become extremely silent. Every time Aragorn said something the Elf only answered with nods.  
  
Like the upper level, this one was a long corridor sided with cells, and as they walked past they examined each carefully as they had on the other level.  
  
"Is this wing as large as the main level?" Aragorn queried.  
  
Legolas only shrugged.  
  
Aragorn cast a side look to his friend. Legolas seemed ill-at-ease. Almost shivering.  
  
Legolas shuddered as he inspected another empty cell by the light of his torch. Caves or dark places had never made him especially uncomfortable, but this place was different. It had a strange influence on him, he felt oppressed down there. The echo of their steps and voices in particular made him anxious.  
  
Never would he forget the echo of this place.  
  


*****

  
  
When Legolas opened his eyes, he was still in the darkness but feeling extremely sore. His head and shoulders were resting uncomfortably against a wall while his legs were slightly elevated - probably laying on the last steps of the stairs he supposed. It was likely he had lost consciousness, but for how much time he could not tell.  
  
As he tried to straighten into a more comfortable position, he yelped with pain as a sharp ache shot through his right shoulder. After a few other painful attempts at moving it he knew with certainty that it was dislocated.  
  
Legolas lifted the hand of his functioning arm to massage his sore temple but stopped as soon as his fingers touched his skin and found dry blood. Suddenly realising he might have more injuries, he began checking all parts of his body: arms, wrists, chest, legs and - ouch. A twisted ankle as well, he noted.  
  
It must have been quite a fall. Too bad he remembered none of it.  
  
Legolas gave a quick look around, even though there was nothing to see. No single light, not even from the door that had led him there and that he could no longer locate. No stars above him to guide his steps. No trees to whisper him his way. Only darkness.  
  
"Captain Valendil?" he tried as he began panicking slightly, but the only answer he got was the echo of his own voice.  
  
He did not like this echo. It was distorted, unpleasant, and it reminded him that he was trapped there alone, no one knowing where he was.  
  
Legolas tried to stand up slowly, making sure not to aggravate his injuries. He supported himself on the wall, grazing his hand against its rough material, but fell back an instant later. Feeling a bit dizzy, he stood still for a second.  
  
He had to climb these stairs, find that door and get out of there. Legolas turned round carefully and crawled to the stairs. Then he began climbing them laboriously, one after the other, helping himself with one arm and one leg only.  
  
Legolas paused after a few steps to catch his breath. The fall had left him exhausted, and he was not sure he would be able to reach the top. For all he knew there could be several levels between him and the door. Maybe he was too far from the main part of the dungeons for someone to hear him if he called.  
  
"Captain Valendil?" he called again, louder than the first time, and once more all he heard back was his own voice.  
  
His eyes stung as they filled with tears. No, he thought, he would not cry. He was a Prince and Princes were strong and did not cry.  
  
His parents or someone would find him soon. But he had hidden there specifically so that no one would find him, so would anyone think to look down there? His hopes scattered as he realised that if the blood on his temple was dry already, it meant he had been there for a while.  
  
His eyes stung more than ever. "Naneth!" he called desperately as his first tears began to fall. "Ada!" he called again, no longer able to hold back his budding sobs as the sound of his voice came back to him once more. (A/N: _"Mother", "Father"_)  
  
Legolas began crying without restraint, dreaming of being somewhere else, anywhere else.  
  
An eternity seemed to pass by until he heard a sound upstairs. Legolas quickly dried his cheeks with the back of his hand and sniffled one last time before looking up. A second later the sudden light of a torch blinded him and he barely saw the Elf holding it turning round to call.  
  
"He is down here! My Lords, down here!"  
  
Almost instantly Legolas' father appeared next to the Elven guard, his face a mask of worry. The next moment Legolas' mother was at Thranduil's side. As soon as she saw her son her face fell.  
  
"Legolas!" she exclaimed with concern before rushing down the stairs, almost knocking over the guard standing in her way.  
  
"Míriel!" Thranduil implored, worried to see his wife going down the sharp stairs so hurriedly.  
  
Míriel soon reached her son. She knelt next to him and took his face between her hands. "Legolas, nín tithen pen…" she whispered, relief shining brightly in her eyes. (A/N: _"My little one"_)  
  
"Naneth," Legolas greeted, instinctively wrapping his arm around his mother's neck as his eyes filled with tears again. (A/N: _"Mother"_)  
  
"Are you wounded?" she queried softly.  
  
Legolas managed to articulate the words shoulder and ankle between sniffles.  
  
"What happened?" she asked next as she lifted him in her arms.  
  
Legolas snuggled up to his mother and between sobs and sniffles tried to explain what happened while she carried him up the stairs. The result was an incoherent assemblage of barely audible words that probably only a mother could understand.  
  
He was done with his story when they all reached the landing. Legolas sniffled one last time before looking up to the unreadable face of his father with apprehension. The Elven King was probably very displeased with his son.  
  
Thranduil remained silent as he examined Legolas before speaking up. "By the Valar, Legolas, how many times have I told you how dangerous a place this is! You knew you were not allowed to enter the dungeons! And what could possibly possess you to go down there? Your mother and I have been worrying for hours! You could have broken your neck falling down these stairs!"  
  
Legolas recoiled at the harsh tone and snuggled up even closer to his mother as he was on the verge of crying again. "Will I be punished?" he dared in a whisper.  
  
Thranduil took a look at the dishevelled hair, the red eyes, the wet cheeks, the trembling lips, the dangling arm. "I believe being trapped for hours alone in the dark and injured was enough of a punishment already."  
  
Thranduil then frowned and pushed a few strands of hair away on his son's forehead to have a better view of the wound there. "Only a superficial wound," he declared with relief after a few seconds of inspection.  
  
The Elf's hand slowly trailed down Legolas' face until it rested tenderly on his son's cheek. "Eru be blessed you are still in one piece," Thranduil said in a barely audible murmur.  
  
Queen Míriel briefly reminded her husband their son had to be brought to the House of Healing, and Thranduil nodded.  
  
As his mother carried him away, Legolas watched over her shoulder as his father turned towards his men.  
  
"I want this door locked and sealed within an hour. It will then remain that way under all circumstances. That part of the dungeons is no longer in use anyway, and the stairs are way too dangerous." Thranduil paused. "Now I would like to have a word with whoever was supposedly in charge of the dungeons' entrance watch this afternoon."  
  
On their way to the House of Healing Míriel made a detour and entered one of the meeting rooms, assuring him that it would not be long. She then began rummaging in the drawer of a commode.  
  
As Legolas watched over her shoulder again he had a perfect view of his two older brothers, looking at a large map displayed on the table. It seemed they were discussing tactics - or rather Faelernil was explaining tactics while Mîrdolen endured. Faelernil was a young adult, but educated enough to be able to teach the basics of the art of war to his younger brother. As for Mîrdolen he was still a young Elf and, as their father liked to ironically put it, a slightly hyperactive one.  
  
Completely captivated by his older brother's soliloquy, Mîrdolen took a look towards his mother and his younger brother with an expression of absolute boredom painfully engraved on his face.  
  
Mîrdolen frowned at the sight of Legolas' red eyes and pout. Then he smiled mischievously and began making faces at the Elfling. He did not have to wait for long to see the effects: Legolas immediately chuckled and his pout vanished.  
  
"… then the only way is to send troops north to stop their progression. And if you really think I do not see what you are doing in my back, Mîrdolen, you are greatly mistaken."  
  
By the time Faelernil turned to look at his brother Mîrdolen had regained his composure and was looking back at the older Elf with an expression of sheer innocence. Faelernil could only scowl at Mîrdolen for a couple of seconds before turning his attention back to the map.  
  
"As I was saying…" Faelernil started again, clearly annoyed.  
  
Legolas and his mother left the room just as Mîrdolen discreetly winked at him.  
  


*****

  
  
The slight smile that had appeared on Legolas' lips at that memory soon faded. He wondered where his brothers were at the moment. He wondered if the fight had already begun. He wondered if they were still all right.  
  
Legolas decided resolutely that he would join them on the battlefield as soon as they would be rid of this creature. In the meantime they would have to take care of all the problems at hand. And hopefully find Gimli alive.  
  
Legolas sighed. He hated this place. He hated what it represented to him. It had always been synonymous of ill events, and not only because of what he had personally lived there. It was no mere fancy if that wing was disused in the first place. Dark events that only the oldest Elves of Mirkwood knew in details had occurred there probably Ages before.  
  
And Legolas hated what that foretold about Gimli's fate. Gimli, his brothers, arguably his father as well… How could one risk to lose most of what he held dear to his heart in so short a time?  
  
"Legolas? Are you all right?" Aragorn asked with concern.  
  
"Let us hurry, shall we?" the Elf answered.  
  
They went on searching until they had almost reached the end of the corridor. At each empty cell their hopes diminished a bit more. It was only when they reached the very last cells that they found what they were looking for.  
  
At the back of one of the cells was a dark form. As Legolas raised his torch in front of him he recognised Gimli. The Dwarf was in a sitting position, his eyes closed, his head slightly tilted to the side, inert. There was a trickle of dry blood on his temple. But Gimli was standing very still, as if…  
  
Oh no, Legolas thought as he felt blood leave his face. They had arrived too late. Gimli was already dead.  
  
Legolas' heart was sinking, filled with despair, when an odd sound came from the Dwarf's direction. Had that been… a snore?? The Elf pricked up his ears… Yes, another snore!  
  
Relieved, elated and suddenly feeling very light-hearted, Legolas burst out laughing.  
  
It seemed the sound of the Elf's laughter waked Gimli up for the Dwarf opened his eyes an instant later. His slightly depressed look turned into a delighted one at the sight of his friends, but before he could say anything Legolas spoke up.  
  
"So it is true," the Elf said, a hint of mischief in his eyes and the slightest smile on his lips. "Dwarves crossing Mirkwood *do* have a tendency to end up in the dungeons."  
  
When Gimli arched an eyebrow Legolas gave an appreciative look around. "I understand. This probably reminds you of your home and you probably feel more comfortable here than among the Court and the pomp of the palace."  
  
Aragorn looked at Legolas with amusement. Funny how the Elf's anxious mood could turn into a humorous one in a matter of seconds.  
  
"I see that some things never change…" Gimli noted with a fake tone of exasperation. "So, my dear companions, are you planning on getting me out of here or will I have to beg you?"  
  
Legolas seemed to ponder the question for a second - undoubtedly in an attempt to annoy his Dwarf friend. "While we had planned on getting you out of here, I suppose some begging could still help," he eventually said.  
  
Aragorn rolled his eyes and decided to go for the cell door himself.  
  
------------------------------  
End of chapter eighteen...  
  
I hope you liked this chapter. If you enjoyed it, please click on the review button and leave me a message. No need to listen to a stupid answering machine or to wait for the beep, just leave a few (or many if you feel like it) words. Did you know than only 5 seconds of your time, if used wisely, could make a fanfiction writer's day?  
  
Also, I will probably post the flashback scenes as one separate fiction in a couple of days, so if some of you get author alert, don't get all excited thinking I posted the next chapter of this story... But if you want to get all excited anyway feel free to do so...  
  
Next chapter: _Confrontation_  



	20. Confrontation

**A/N**: Here is the last chapter of this story. There's an epilogue coming after it, and I will post it within two days. I have several projects of new stories, and I will tell you more about at the very end of this story after the epilogue.  
  
I would like to thank everyone who took the time to review this story, it's really what made it worth writting for me.  
To those who never had the opportunity to do so, this is your chance...  
  
I would also like to thank my beta, **Candice**, who always did a wonderful job and thanks to whom my English improved.  
  
  


** Chapter 19  
Confrontation**

  
  
  
On the way back to the palace, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas made sure to take indirect paths. There was no need to draw attention to themselves - with almost every single Elf in the city looking for Gimli, the presence of the Dwarf would be spotted immediately.  
  
Hence they were very careful not to cross anyone else's path, only taking little used ways. They also only spoke in a low voice.  
  
"We should take advantage of knowing for sure where the creature is to get rid of it once and for all," Legolas whispered. "But we still know not of a certain way to destroy it or even if it can be destroyed."  
  
"We only have this piece of information about the Barrow-wights," Aragorn muttered back for Gimli's attention. "The creature seems to be akin to them and light the only known weapon against them. Obviously this will be useless against the host."  
  
"Maybe not," Gimli countered. "During my captivity I had quite some time to think, and I came up with a couple of ideas that could reveal helpful."  
  
Legolas could not help but tease him. "Really? You used your time to think about a way to destroy the creature? I had imagined you would use it whether to try to find a way out or to mine some gold. Who knows, maybe we have an unknown vein lower down."  
  
Gimli gave him a scowling look. "I will not comment on that remark about mining, it is utterly stereotypical and a clear misconception of Dwarven psychology. However, I *did* consider using my belt's buckle to dig a way out under the cell door, but I assumed you two would come and rescue me ages before I would be done."  
  
"Then please accept my deepest apologies, Master Dwarf," Legolas replied. "Had I known I would have given you more time."  
  
"More time!" Gimli said indignantly yet still in a low voice. "On the contrary, it was about time you came! Had I known you would be so long I would have started to dig my way out right away!"  
  
"Could we please come back to more urgent concerns?" Aragorn insisted. Some things would definitely never change, but it was not the time.  
  
Both friends nodded.  
  
"We should make the most of having my father busy and prepare a plan quickly," Legolas suggested.  
  
"We should hurry then," Aragorn remarked, "for I know not how much longer Niyan can hold your Lord. He could already be in difficulties."  
  
"You put the lad in charge of keeping King Thranduil busy?" Gimli asked, surprised. "I hope you know what you are doing. Your brothers would have been more qualified, Legolas. Mîrdolen would have probably been a wiser choice, or Faelernil even."  
  
When both his companions remained silent, Gimli went on. "I gather I missed some major event during my incarceration."  
  
"Faelernil and Mîrdolen were sent west to stop an Orc invasion," Legolas barely answered.  
  
"I see," Gimli replied, a bit embarrassed. After a minute of silent walking, he hesitated before going on. "Could we make a detour through the kitchens? I am feeling a bit peckish after over a day locked in a cell."  
  


*****

  
  
"Of course, my Lord," Niyan replied to a very inquisitive Thranduil. "The rulers of Rohan could be consulted as well, but as I told you my King is very keen on forging a strong and lasting alliance with the Wood Elves of Mirkwood."  
  
Niyan did not know for certain how much time he had spent keeping the Elven King busy but it seemed like Ages. The two hours were more than over and he was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. If his King and his companions did not come back soon he would run out of ideas. The alliance one was supposed to be his last resort and it had been going for a while already.  
  
"I see. But what about the common forces?" Thranduil asked. "Will the agreement of both rulers be necessary to command them?"  
  
Niyan hesitated. He did not like this kind of grounds, especially since all the creature's inquiries since the beginning of their discussion had headed this way. Considering its aspirations, he had had to let it believe it could have a complete control to keep the conversation going.  
  
"An agreement will have to be found about this point," he answered, "but you should be able to discuss these details with King Elessar himself very soon."  
  
The Elf sighed. "Then go seek your King."  
  
Oh no, Niyan thought. Not already. They were not back yet, he had to give them more time…  
  
"Of course my Lord, as soon as we clarify one last - "  
  
Thranduil immediately interrupted the young man. "I think we have spent enough time discussing the eventualities," he said sharply. "Now I wish to talk about it with your Lord."  
  
Niyan smiled nervously. "Certainly," he managed with a short bow while racking his brain. Something, anything, even just to win a couple of minutes…  
  
A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. When he turned round he saw Legolas and King Elessar walking in.  
  
"My King, I am delighted to see you here," Niyan greeted, hoping his relief was not too obvious. "I was just approaching the possibility of an alliance between the forces of Gondor and Mirkwood with King Thranduil," he added with a hardly noticeable nod to his Liege.  
  
Aragorn instantly took the hint and turned to the Elven King with a broad smile. "I would love to know your position about this project, King Thranduil."  
  
"Some points still have to be established, but altogether it could be worth considering," the Elf answered.  
  
"I am glad to hear this," Aragorn replied, "since I took the liberty to establish drafts of what could become treaties between our nations. Would you care to come have a look at them?"  
  
Thranduil eyed the King of Gondor attentively. When he did not answer Legolas decided to speak up.  
  
"The papers are up in the council room," said the archer. "When King Elessar asked my advice for a quiet place to discuss these agreements I suggested the council room. After all it is where all the accords have always been made and signed."  
  
His assertion seemed to convince the Elven King who stood up. "All right," he said before following them outside.  
  


*****

  
  
Thranduil was rejoicing. He was still trapped, he was still under the control of this creature, he was still saddened by the departure of his eldest sons, but he knew something was going to happen soon. Something that would most certainly stir the situation a bit.  
  
Legolas' allusion earlier had been unmistakable. The reference to his mother… very bright indeed. It seemed his son had figured out the creature's inability to reach ancient memories as he had.  
  
And how could this creature be so oblivious to the ambush being laid in front of it? An alliance between Elves and Men… It would be the first in a very, very long time… Almost unthinkable, even during these times of peace. And were it truly being considered King Elessar would have come to discuss it himself first. However, Thranduil had to admit the young man, the 'diplomat' if he could be called that way, was quite clever. Using what the creature craved, power, to lure it into the trap…  
  
If the creature could not detect the clues, he certainly could and he would not spoil their chance when it arises. When something would have to be done, he would be ready. He pitied not knowing the plan of his allies, but when the time comes he would help them his best.  
  
The battle was near. Only the ultimate outcome was uncertain.  
  


*****

  
  
It was turning even better than it had thought, the creature mused. An alliance with Men… Orcs could be subdued rather effortlessly but had been decimated over the last decade, while Men were expanding and easily corrupted… Orcs could wait.  
  
It followed the two Men and the Elf up the stairs to the council room. If it managed to take the upper hand during the negotiations, the Men of Gondor would soon be at its mercy. And with them and the Elves of Mirkwood, possibly the Orcs as well, no one would be able to stop it.  
  
It entered the council room with a feeling of confidence and supremacy. It soon came back down to earth and froze when it saw the Dwarf. The council table had been put aside in a corner with the chairs, and Gimli was quietly sitting on one of them. In its budding rage the creature barely noticed the presence of the female Norean on another chair or the fact that the curtains were drawn. At its arrival both stood up.  
  
"What is he doing here?" it hissed while turning round. "Guards!" it called before noticing Legolas was closing the door and locking it. "What are you doing?" it asked angrily.  
  
"I am afraid the guards will not be able to come for a few moments," Legolas quietly replied while taking the key out of the keyhole before putting it in his pocket.  
  
"What - what is this sham?" it exclaimed in a huff.  
  
"You mean," Gimli began, "*who* is a sham."  
  
It turned towards the Dwarf again and pointed an accusing finger at him. "This traitor should be arrested immediately!" it threatened. "Why is none of you doing anything?"  
  
"You are right," Aragorn replied while walking closer, "the dangerous traitor should be arrested. But we still have to agree on who the traitor is."  
  
"What are you talking about?" it retorted, indignant.  
  
"I thought you would have understood by now," Legolas said while stepping towards his father.  
  
"This is absolutely ridiculous! This Dwarf has killed several Elves and should be imprisoned at once!" it affirmed. "So if you are suggesting that I am a traitor you are making a great mistake."  
  
"Then prove it to me."  
  


*****

  
  
Oh what a sweet moment this was, Legolas thought. The creature's rage had been instantaneous when it had realised what was going on. The look on his father's face when it had seen Gimli, or when he had locked the door…  
  
But now was the sweetest moment of all, the lingering second between anger and comprehension, the instant when everything was falling into place in its brain - if it even had one.  
  
It knew it was uncovered. And it knew this was going to be its last chance to instil a hint of doubt in their minds.  
  
"A long time ago, when I was still an Elfling," Legolas began, "you told me something very important, something you asked me to remember all my life. Something about trust. Would you care to reminding me what it was?"  
  
A hint of nervousness briefly fleeted over Thranduil's features. He looked beyond his son to the locked door, behind him to the Dwarf, to his side at Aragorn, then back at Legolas.  
  
"This is thoroughly scandalous," Thranduil said indignant, "I have no need to justify myself!"  
  
"I see. Not much memory these days…" Legolas commented calmly.  
  
Thranduil turned even more furious. "Legolas, as your King I order you to open this door this instant or I will have to -"  
  
"Here is what you told me," Legolas interrupted irreverently. "If a day comes when you can no longer trust your own, no matter the rank, no matter the title, fear not to rely on your instincts to take the decisions that your heart commands." He paused. "This is what I - what *we* are doing right now."  
  
Legolas observed his father look at each of them in turn. Soon would they know if the creature would behave has supposed. Soon would they know if their plan was viable. And if it was not… they would have to figure another very, very quickly for no backup plan had been established. It was their only chance, their only option, their only hope. It would either work or fail completely. Better not think about the consequences of a failure.  
  
Thranduil's look came back to him and Legolas returned the gaze. From the corner of his eyes he made sure that all those who would have a critical role in the next few seconds had silently and slowly taken their positions. He was the one who would have to act quickly when the right moment came. One split second too early or one split second too late, and everything would be definitely over.  
  
When Thranduil smirked and cast him a defiant look, Legolas knew the creature had made its decision. Soon would they know.  
  
Aragorn was now the one standing the closest to the creature, certainly one step closer than was wise. And in a flash, it acted. Thranduil reached for Aragorn's arm and bore his look into the King of Gondor's eyes. Legolas reacted instantly. That was exactly what they had been waiting for, what they had hoped for: use Aragorn as a bait to lure the creature into trying to switch hosts.  
  
Legolas seized his father and dragged him away, breaking the contact between Thranduil and Aragorn in the middle of the likely transfer. The result was both expected and unexpected.  
  
Right between where Thranduil and Aragorn had been was now standing a human sized kind of spectre, a ghost with a not totally human figure. It was semi-translucent but its silver silhouette emitted no light, at least not the kind of light the sun or even the moon would. It was a glow that radiated no warmth, only coldness and darkness. Nothing in its aspect or attitude was welcoming.  
  
And it seemed angry.  
  
The creature looked around, searching for another prey, but Aragorn had immediately taken several secure steps back while Legolas had helped his father away. It finally decided on Cindra, the one standing the closest to it, too flabbergasted had she been to walk away as she should have. But as it lounged at her Niyan took her by the waist and pulled her out of reach.  
  
The creature was now angrier than ever. Everyone had moved to the same side of the room, all facing the creature, Legolas slightly ahead of them. When the creature strode towards him, full of rage, Legolas did not move and remained standing firmly on his position. Now was the most critical moment of their plan. If it failed, it mattered not if it managed to reach him.  
  
Unexpectedly held back by some invisible force, the creature abruptly stopped its progression barely a foot from the Elf. As if the sudden ray of light between the two of them had been powerful enough to halt it.  
  
Gimli finished pulling the curtain open until all of his companions bathed in daylight. The creature was alone in the dark half of the room, standing very still and staring at Legolas in front of it.  
  
A creature of light facing a creature of darkness. One smiling broadly, the other growling with frustration.  
  
"I think we have just revealed your weak spot…" Legolas teased in a whisper.  
  
As Gimli began to pull the other curtain open, it instantly took a step back to remain in the darkness. It took a few others while light progressed, looking around for a way out - but there was none. All of its possible hosts were out of reach in the light. It turned round and round as if caught in a snare as its vital space became narrower and narrower.   
  
It was only driven back in a corner that some kind of feeling eventually seemed to cross its features, and it was fear.  
  
When light finally reached the recoiling silhouette it began to vaporize with a deafening inhuman scream. Its features and its form slowly faded into an indistinct cloud. The screeching stopped all of a sudden only once the ghostly shape had totally vanished. There was nothing left of it, not even the cloud that had quickly dispersed.  
  
Everyone remained immobile and silent during several long seconds, still facing he empty corner, still unsure everything was over.  
  
"Is it… is it gone?" Gimli eventually asked hesitantly. "I mean, truly gone?"  
  
Aragorn was the one to answer after another silent moment. "I think so. Unless it is able to survive under some unknown and invisible form, it has to be. We all saw it die."  
  
Legolas felt a hand gently squeeze his shoulder. When he glanced back his eyes met the fatherly look of Thranduil. They briefly smiled at each other before taking each other in their arms.  
  
"Mae govannen bar, ada," whispered Legolas at his father's ear. (A/N: _"Welcome home, Father"_)  
  
"Cormamin lindua ele lle, ion nîn," Thranduil whispered back, mirroring what they had told each other when they had first met a few days before. (A/N: _"My heart sings to see thee, my son."_)  
  
Aragorn smiled at the sight of father and son reunited, his mind unconsciously bringing him back to his own family in Minas Tirith. He ached to see them again, his wife, his children…  
  
When he looked around he realised everyone was bearing a happy smile - though he wondered if Niyan's was completely due to the creature's death or the fact that the young man's arm was still wrapped around Cindra's waist could have something to do with it. When the young woman eventually realised it, she glared at the Gondorean, who instantly withdrew his arm with an apologetic look.  
  
"I am glad we are done with this creature at last," Gimli told Aragorn after walking next to him. "I will certainly not remember these last weeks as the most enjoyable in my life."  
  
"I know what you mean," Aragorn answered, "though they were probably less enjoyable for you than they were for me."  
  
"So," Gimli began, "now that you are a member of the very select circle of those who were possessed by the creature and lived to tell the tale… What did you think of it?"  
  
"I only had a short contact with it and it did not possess me," Aragorn replied. "But if I had to describe this experience, I could find no other words than 'extremely unpleasant'. I can only imagine how horrible being fully possessed by it could be."  
  
Gimli nodded knowingly just as Thranduil and Legolas moved apart at last. The King of Mirkwood suddenly looked completely aghast as if he just remembered something.  
  
"Your brothers…" he whispered to his son. "I sent them to their deaths…"  
  
"You did not, *it* did…" Legolas assured. "Besides it may not be too late. I will leave at once with several companies to help them."  
  
As Legolas began to leave Thranduil grabbed his son's wrist and stopped him. The archer turned back and cast his father a questioning look.  
  
"Two of my sons are already in great danger and I will not allow the last to join them," Thranduil replied firmly.  
  
"But we have to send them reinforcements!" Legolas countered animatedly.  
  
"If it is already too late to stop the Orcs, if the battle is already over, the City will be too vulnerable if other soldiers are sent away. We will need all the companies available to stop them at our doors."  
  
Legolas knew it was not his father talking to him but his Lord. The father had already expressed his worry for his sons. Now the King had taken over, which meant it was an order. And while he could see the sense behind it he could not admit to leave his brothers to their fate.  
  
"But…" he began.  
  
"I am afraid all we can do is wait," King Thranduil interrupted.  
  
Legolas bore his eyes into his father's. The King had taken the decision that ensured the safety of his people. But Legolas could tell from Thranduil's look that the father was as horrified as he was himself, if not more.  
  
The decision the King had had to take must have greatly pained the father.  
  
---------------------------  
End of chapter 19...  
  
Next chapter, coming very, very soon: _Epilogue_  



	21. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

  
  
  
Soon the news of a creature possessing their King spread among the Elves of Mirkwood, and all were glad it had been defeated.  
  
But the rejoicing was tainted by the still unsure outcome of the battle against the Orcs. Most had a son, a brother or a husband involved in this battle and were anxiously waiting for news from the front. Furthermore they had to remain alert should the City be attacked, and all were preparing in case of a confrontation.  
  
The members of the Royal family were not the least worried for they too were awaiting news from sons or brothers. Legolas' friends tried to make things easier for him by attempting to distract him a bit, but they could see it was no use. As long as the outcome of the battle remained uncertain their companion would remain concerned and ready to fight another war.  
  
They, too, had offered their services to the King of Mirkwood. Since leaving would be too dangerous considering the circumstances, they would stay and help defend the City should it be assaulted.  
  
It was three days after the creature's defeat that a guard hastily entered Thranduil's study, where the King was discussing with his youngest son.  
  
"My Lords, the companies are back!" the guard exclaimed with a delighted smile.  
  
A wave of relief washed through both Elves. They knew it meant the battle had been won. They instantly stood up and hurried outside. Many families had heard of the victorious return of their people and were already waiting near the high stone doors to welcome their relatives.  
  
Like the others, Thranduil and Legolas eagerly waited, yet at some distance, while warriors walked through the doors. The King made sure to greet and congratulate all the soldiers that would come and bow to him, but as soon as they left his eyes wandered back to the doors.  
  
Both Thranduil and Legolas were watching the gates expectantly, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of their sons or brothers. When Mîrdolen eventually entered the City, his father was the first to react and stride his way, though he was soon followed by Legolas.  
  
Except a light wound on the head and another on the shoulder, Mîrdolen seemed rather healthy though obviously exhausted. As soon as Thranduil reached his son he took him in his arms. After a few seconds he finally let him go.  
  
"Where is Faelernil?" Thranduil asked earnestly.  
  
"I am afraid…" Mîrdolen began.  
  
Instantly both Thranduil's and Legolas' faces fell. Thranduil brought a trembling hand to his mouth and closed his eyes, looking thoroughly devastated.  
  
"I am afraid he managed to survive despite all our efforts," Mîrdolen finished.  
  
Thranduil opened his eyes and examined his son questioningly, until he saw his oldest son at the doors, making sure the last warriors reached the City safely and helping some wounded soldiers.  
  
The King glared at Mîrdolen with his lips pursed while the younger Elf looked back at him with a weak smile. After a long second Thranduil sighed and slightly shook his head before walking past his son to greet Faelernil. On his way he hit Mîrdolen lightly on the back of the head.  
  
"Ouch!" Mîrdolen exclaimed before massaging his head. Then he turned towards his father. "I will have you know that I am wounded!"  
  
Thranduil kept walking and Mîrdolen turned back towards Legolas.  
  
"This was not funny, Mîrdolen," Legolas remarked, "it is no laughing matter."  
  
"I know…" his older brother admitted. "Do you reckon he will send me to patrol the southern borders again?"  
  
"While you certainly deserve it," Legolas observed, "he is probably too relieved to see you both alive to punish you for teasing us." He paused. "I am glad to see you too," he added with a smile.  
  
Mîrdolen smiled back and pulled his brother into a hug.  
  
"So how did you manage during our absence?" the older Elf asked when they parted. "Did you find your friend and the creature? Father seems to be back to normal so I suppose whatever ailed him no longer does."  
  
"We found Gimli," Legolas answered, "and we destroyed the creature. As for our father… it is a long story."  
  
"Then it will have to wait until tomorrow, I need to rest," Mîrdolen replied before moving away.  
  
"Mîrdolen!" Legolas called. "How did you manage this miracle?" he asked when his brother turned back to him. "How did you win the battle? The odds were greatly against you."  
  
"The Valar themselves came to help us. You should have seen it, it was absolutely – " Mîrdolen stopped when he realised his brother was staring at him disbelievingly and gave a long sigh. "Faelernil sent a messenger to the northern patrols and two extra companies joined us just before the battle."  
  
The two brothers looked at the third one walking next to their father, reviewing some of their troops. Legolas noticed Faelernil limped a little.  
  
"I have to admit it was a brilliant idea," Mîrdolen went on, "I would have never thought about it… And it certainly saved our lives…" He paused. "Maybe he is not as useless as I thought him to be…"  
  
Mîrdolen and Legolas exchanged a glance before bursting out laughing.  
  


*****

  
  
After everyone had taken the time to rest and rejoice, it was time for the King of Mirkwood's guests to leave and return to their respective nations and duties.  
  
Cindra had expressed her desire to go back to Norea, assured that her people would know she was ready and wait for her.  
  
Aragorn was eager to return to Minas Tirith and see his wife and children again. After several discussions with Cindra they had come to the conclusion that both their nations could benefit from an alliance between Gondor and Norea. While Norea could learn a lot from Gondor for along the Ages they had lost precious knowledge, Gondor still suffered from sporadic attacks from Corsairs and Aragorn believed the Norean's experienced sailors could be of valuable help in their fight against them. Hence Cindra had promised to meet the other clans' chiefs of Norea and try to convince them.  
  
Thinking back to their misadventure with the creature, Aragorn realised that Niyan had had a key role by keeping King Thranduil busy thanks to his diplomatic talent. Aragorn decided to promote Niyan to the rank of Lieutenant. The young man welcomed the news both with bewilderment and lots of gratitude.  
  
Gimli had decided to go to the Lonely Mountain since he was so close to it. He would try and see if some Dwarves there would join him in Aglarond.  
  
As for Legolas, his father had eventually agreed to his project to establish an Elven community in Ithilien. Thranduil would never admit it to his son, but the Elven King knew it would be a good way to keep Legolas busy and away from any sea longing.  
  
Nine days after the defeat of the creature, they all left Mirkwood.  
  
  
  
The End.  
  
  
  
-------------------------------  
  
**A/N**: Once more, thanks to everyone who reviewed this story. It's the first time I actually manage to finish a serious one and it's a really weird feeling. After writing the words 'the end' I was thinking "so what am I supposed to do now?"  
  
I have several projects of other LOTR stories, and I suppose that if you reached this page you may want to hear about them:  
  
- a sequel to this story.  
The general plot: ten years later, a group of Norean clans chiefs come to Middle Earth to establish alliances with various nations. Politics, angst as always, and romance.  
Canon characters involved: Aragorn, Arwen, Legolas, Gimli, Eldarion, Merry, Pippin, Elladan and/or Elrohir, Faramir, Eomer, possibly Eowyn.  
Returning OCs: Mîrdolen (the Elf grew on me so much he now has a life of his own), Niyan, Cindra.  
As you can guess from the number of characters this story will certainly be hard to handle, so it will take a good amount of time before you see this story posted. Especially since I still need to work on the plot.  
  
- a story featuring mainly a teenage Eldarion and Aragorn.  
Other characters: Arwen, possibly Legolas and Gimli.  
The plot: after an argument with his father, Eldarion leaves Minas Tirith at night and gets himself into lots of trouble. (think kidnapping...)  
  
- several short stories involving the Royal family of Mirkwood, and especially the Princes when they were younger. After writing this story I wouldn't be able to picture Mirkwood's Royal family without Faelernil and Mîrdolen, so you might not have heard the end of them and Legolas.  
  
If you have any preference as to which story you'd rather see written first, please let me know in a review.  
  
  
**Thank you for reading this story to the end.  
  
Morphea.**  



End file.
